Where the Idol Sleep
by packman23
Summary: When some kids go missing on an adventure in the caves, it is up to Pop to rescue them. But, with the dangerously unstable Flippy and Lammy planning something, a murderous snake on the loose and Handy working for the kidnappers, can they succeed? HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I were creator of Happy Tree Friends I would be kinder.

**Chapter One: Soccer shocker**

"GOOOAL,"

Cheers rang out across Happy Tree Park as, evidently, another goal was scored. Cuddles jogged back to his own side, high-fiving his best friend, Toothy, and winking at Sniffles, the unfortunate captain of the other team. Sniffles just didn't stand a chance. He didn't have any good sports players except for Flippy and Russel, and soccer wasn't exactly Russel's game, as his legs often fell off. Toothy grinned brightly at Cuddles and motioned to go on the attack.

"Pass it to me," he whispered, "then I'll pass it through Lammy's legs and set you up for a hat trick!" Cuddles grinned back at Toothy, tackling Russel (and knocking off his legs_ again_) and doing exactly what his friend had suggested. Life in Happy Tree Town was, for the most part, as optimistic as its name suggested.

Except for one girl. She was sitting over by Lumpy, preparing sandwiches for the other kids for when they finished their game. She didn't want to be here. It wasn't just the soccer match, it was Happy Tree Town in general. She had already been horribly injured three times this week and, although the injuries had healed and the limbs had grown back. She was still missing half a finger, had bags under her eyes, and her spines were covered in bits of stress caused dandruff. Flaky looked over at the khaki clad bear by the goals. She gave a groan, Flippy was a good friend and, in the years she had known him, he had been wounded on the occasion, but rarely ever killed. Flippy was a survivor, and Flaky, though scared witless of him, always felt a little jealous when ever she was near him. She wished she could be like him, a brave soldier, rather than the cowardly ball of fluff and dandruff that she was. Flaky was bought back to reality by Lumpy, who, tapping on her shoulder, nearly scared her out of her skin.

"Err, are you OK Flaky?" he smiled.

"Y-yes, yes, I'm fine." Flaky smiled, giggling nervously, before staring miserably down at her sandwich. She sighed again. Why did life have to be like this? Any other people, any other time, people would be shocked and terrified by what happened, as afraid of everything as she was. But here, people just seemed to accept it.

And then _it _happened.

Cuddles kicked the ball and missed. The ball whizzed past Flippy, ricocheting off the goalpost with a clang and hitting the aforementioned bear hard in the face, giving him a nosebleed. The bear smiled cheerily and held his handkerchief up to his nose, before looking down at its contents and recoiling. Deep inside of him, something clicked and memories of dying comrades surged back to him. He fell in a heap, covering his face with his hands and whimpering slightly, in a desperate attempt to keep the voices out.

"F-F-Flippy..." Sniffles stammered, taking a cautious step towards him, "are you O-gurk..." Sniffles stumbled backwards his sentence cut as short as his long tongue had been.

"Yeah. I'm OK." In an instance, Flippy was on his feet, grabbing the dismembered body part and shoving it down its owners defenseless throat, before tying it to the end of his snout with a neat bow. The other Tree friends gasped as Flippy kicked Sniffles now lifeless body over, and rounded on Toothy, who he knocked to the floor with a kick that could, and did, break bones, and fell upon him, bowie knife in hand. The result was not pretty.

Cuddles gasped, turning away form Flippy and running into the bushes. He didn't know where he was going, but anywhere was better than here. Stumbling through bracken and pushing passed trees, Cuddles ran. Falling and tripping, toppling to the ground before pulling himself up and carrying on. He ran and ran until the trees stopped, and there was no where else to run. Looking up he saw a mountain stretching out in front of him and, directly in front of his face was a jagged walled cave. It's walls were stained with blood and gore and a giant face leered out from inside. It was an idol, a large one too, about twice the size of Cuddles and carved into the very mountain. It's monkey like features were contorted in a horrific growl and both its hands gripped a savage black spear. Cuddles' throat ran dry, he wanted to run away, but that was out of the question. Shaking, his body inched forward. Cuddles looked at his feet, they had just moved on their own, completely free of his command. He gave a whine urging them frantically to stop, to run from the idol, but they weren't listening. The world went hazy in front of his eyes and he fell to his knees, the strangely alluring idol seemed even closer than before, and still he was crawling towards it. He felt tears run down his face and suddenly he felt like he was about to die. Not the quick, short-term, back next episode deaths he always had, but really, properly, no-coming back death. He tried to speak but, as he did, his mouth filled with blood. And then everything went black.

...

Next Flippy headed towards Russel's legless form and began splitting Russel into his component body parts, (which consisted of two arms, a body and a head). Flaky covered her eyes as Flippy strangled Giggles and ripped Lumpy in half, with the help of a nearby tree. She started to cry, she had to stop him. Hand quivering, she reached for the carving knife that Lumpy had been using to cut tomatoes. She gulped, she had to stop this rampage, all by herself. Alone. Just like she always was. It wasn't like Flippy would die, she reminded herself, not forever. Clutching the blade firmly in her hands she charged Flippy and was just about to run him through, when she felt a sharp pain in her leg. She tripped and fell backwards, landing straight on the corpse of Giggles. Flippy grinned savagely, wresting the knife from her hands and shoving it into her arm.

"W-why are you d-d-doing this F-Flippy?" Flaky gasped, "W-why do you always have to be like this?"

Flippy laughed "What can I say. Love hurts!" With those words he pushed his hand down her throat and, after a few twists of his hand, pulled her heart out of her body. He winced, as pain shot straight through his body and his small green eyes grew back into large, pacman shaped eyes. Flippy stared around at the devastation, and then down at Flaky, and he saw the light disappear from her eyes.

"What have I done..." Flippy whispered.

...

Far away from the carnage in the park, Petunia's door bell rang. Hurriedly cleaning the last speck of dust off of her table and fixing her namesake flower back into her hair, the obsessive skunk ran to answer the door. They were early, that was bad. And the house was still such a tip. And tips were bad because everything had to be clean, always clean, clean as a whistle, not a speck of dust. Clean, clean, clean. That was all Petunia ever thought about, hygiene, cleanliness and soda. Finally getting to the door, Petunia threw it wide, revealing her guests.

Mime, silent as ever was leaning, as if on a table, in front of her, a small balloon modeled into the shape of a flower. He reached inside his striped shirt and pulled out an impeccably balloon modeled box of chocolates, which he handed to her. Petunia blushed, and was just about to say something when she heard a voice from behind the deer.

"Hey Baby!" Disco Bear drawled, shoving the smaller Mime easily out of the way and giving his signature suave smirk, "real swingin' place ya got here. Mind if I, take a look around?" Petunia rolled her eyes. That was the problem with inviting the Happy Homeowners society to your house, you got _him_.

Resting on the wall next to the door, just out of sight, Handy frowned. God he hated Mondays. It wasn't just the fact that he was missing his freaking hands, it wasn't even the fact that he was in the same freaking club as _these_ idiots. He had become bitter. It wasn't easy to lose your hands. It was even less easy to become the butt of every hand related joke this side of the universe. No, it was the fact that those two _freaking_ idiots were fawning over Petunia. Yeah- that's right- he liked Petunia, big deal, whoop-de-doo, put a _freaking_ sock in it. Funny thing was, he didn't even know how old she was. She could've been twelve, she could've been seventy. People aged really slowly in Happy Tree Town, he himself had been there for years and had only aged two years, give or take. And the most galling thing was, he knew why that was, why his hands didn't grow back, and he was responsible for it. He turned to Petunia, putting on his most convincing smile.

"Hey, Petunia," he smiled, "how ya doin'." He pushed passed Mime and Disco Bear, glaring daggers at both as he did so. Mime smiled optimistically back at him as he came in. Freakin' kid didn't know when he was being hated.

Petunia rushed after them, brushing mud off their feet and cleaning up Nutty's drool as they came in, all while apologizing for the mess. Pop smiled slightly, placing Cub on the table and taking a bottle of baby mush and handing it over to him. He looked around him at the spotless house, and began to smoke his pipe.

"Lovely place you got here," he said, re-adjusting his hat and closing his eyes, "I remember back when I was a lad, kids like us didn't have anything. Born on a farm don't you know, roof made 'a straw. In the summer it was too hot, winter too cold, but, heck, we had good times..." he trailed off, lost in his memories. Petunia rubbed the back of her head as she placed a tray of immaculately polished cookies on the table, each stacked in fives and with little name tags pegged onto them.

"Errm, thanks, Handy built it all by himself." She smiled over at the beaver. Handy grinned:

"Yeah well, you may think they're good, but you shoulda seen what this stuff used t' look like before I lost my hands." Handy smiled at Petunia, raising one eyebrow, and was just about to make some comment along the lines of 'wow you look lovely' when Petunia screamed, rushing out of the room with a paper bag over her face. Handy scowled. Cub had been throwing his food. Next to him, the mild mannered Knutt Ahiro, investigative reporter for the Daily Acorn, rose to his feet and walked, or rather hovered after her. Handy scowled again, casting his mind away from the weird blue squirrel and instead towards bigger problems. Namely Disco Bear and Mime. He grinned forcedly over at the two, glancing towards the tray of biscuits.

"Ya know," Handy drawled, catching the attention of the orange afroed bear. "Petunia really hates mess."

"Ohhh yeah?" Disco Bear grinned back, a similar malevolent glint in his eye, "DB bets that whoever knocked that tray of biscuits off the table would be sooo dead." He lent heavily on the table.

"Yeah," Handy grinned, leaning down to Disco Bear's level and placing his hand stub on the tray of biscuits. "An' whoever stopped 'em from hitting the ground would be in Petunia's good books, for life." Mime stared quizzically at the two, unable to hear them on account of being deaf, before realizing what they were planning, and covering his mouth with his hands. In the background Pop continued to regale an enthralled Cub with tales of his childhood, and Nutty had begun to eat the curtains, which had candy shaped tassels on them. Disco Bear grinned self-confidently, his eyes locking with Handy's, engaging in a battle, a staring contest. A mental struggle between two men whose combined mental powers were too puny to fight their way out of a matchbox. He placed one hand on a stack of cookies, Handy's, pushing his face up close to Handy, who glared back. Everyone knew that, to Petunia, the label system was infallible. If Handy's cookie fell, then Handy must have done it.

"Just one flick," Disco Bear grinned, "and your chances with Petunia are in the fire." Handy growled, exposing teeth, as he placed his stub of an arm on the pile, forcing the bear's hand to stay where it was.

"Just you try it. Jerk." He forced a smile, pushing his face closer to Disco Bear's in the classic, staring contest intimidation technique.

It was just then that Petunia chose to re-enter the living room, Portable Hoover in hand. The Hoover dropped to the floor as she took in the scene in front of her. To put it politely Handy and Disco Bear were both leaning heavily on the table, staring into each other's eyes. They were uncomfortably close. And their 'hands' were touching. Petunia gasped, Cub face-palmed and Mime, by now rather stressed out by the whole day, took an imaginary gun from his sleeve and mimed shooting himself in the head, collapsing in an all too realistic stupor. The skunk gave a little squeak, which caused both men to look up, tip the tray, bang their heads together and fall over the table and onto the floor. The cookies went flying, breaking into a million pieces and scattering all over Petunia's recently, and thoroughly, washed carpet. It was, all in all, a thoroughly awkward moment.

"P-P-Petunia!" Handy gasped, struggling to pull himself up, without the use of his hands.

"Ohh, I think I'm gonna be sick," Petunia mumbled. She stumbled backwards, landing awkwardly in the arms of Knutt, who had somehow appeared behind her in under a second, having been in the kitchen the entire time.

"Look Petunia it's not what you think," Handy took a step forwards, which was good, because it stopped him from being crushed by the large amount of masonry and yellow rabbit in pink bunny slippers, that fell through the ceiling at that exact moment, crushing Disco Bear to death. Cuddles landed, head lolling to one side, right in the middle of the destruction. Following him and, at an even more dangerous speed, came Flippy, fully armed and sporting a pair of rather fetching sunglasses. He landed perfectly, crushing Cub to a paste before spinning on his heels, catching Nutty with his fist and breaking the squirrel's neck. In the doorway, Knutt grinned.

"Finally," Knutt whispered, dropping Petunia carelessly to the ground. "I get to fight Flippy! Err, I mean, I gotta go to the can." He zoomed out, ignoring the puzzled looks of the other guests.

"Wow that mole was easy to kill," Flippy grinned, readjusting his new shades, before catching sight of his reflection in the mirror, and wincing, "Well it ain't my fault if yer scared of a little blood... coward... I don't give a rat's ass how ya feel about that girl, yer in the army, live with it... Oh will you quit that sniffling," he roared at his invisible enemy, "yer depressing me." He stepped over Nutty's quivering form and rounded on Cuddles.

"Get up," Flippy growled, "They ain't no fun when I can't see the light leave their eyes." He reached over to Pop, who was still grieving his son's death, and dragged the morose man over to Cuddles body. "I found this kid down by the caves." he grinned maliciously, "So, it figures that you know how to wake him up." He threw Pop onto his knees, kicking him hard in the butt for good luck. "DO IT!"

It didn't take long for Handy to act, he grabbed Petunia by the wrist. Or rather, he would have done, had he any hands. Growling and cursing his forgetfulness, Handy instead shoved Petunia in front of him, trying to get her as close to the door and as far from these lunatics as possible.

At exactly the same instance, Pop spun around, pipe in hand, as well as one of Nutty's candy bars that, despite being dead, the squirrel had been somewhat unhappy to give up. He gave a growl and, in a short lived burst of violence, jabbing Flippy in the stomach with the pipe, ramming the sticky candy into Flippy's fur along with it. Flippy growled as Pop pulled back the candy, ripping out a large chunk of fur, and a small patch of skin. Flippy gave a great shout, spinning his Bowie knife and shoving it into Pop's windpipe, Pop's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed on the floor. Flippy left the blade in, handle quivering.

"Goddamn freak," Flippy growled, pulling the pipe out of his stomach touching his new injury testily.

"What are you laughing at, coward?" He turned around, smashing the mirror with his fist as he ranted at his reflection. In an instant he had turned back to his normal self. He shook his head, wiped the tears from his eyes and left the building, saddened by what he had done. A few minutes later, Cuddles woke up. He breathed a sigh of relief, and was just about to get up, when the roof caved in, crushing him to death. At the same time Petunia had just opened the door, and was about to leave the building, when it collapsed upon her, splitting her in half.

"Oh great," Petunia groaned, glaring up at Handy, who had escaped just before her, "Now, when I come back to life, I'll have so much cleaning up to do." Then she died. Handy grimaced, looking down at her sadly. Great, he thought, now I have to go to the hospital.

It was at that exact moment, that Splendid, the flying squirrel, flew in.

"Never fear," he shouted, "Splendid is... Dammit, just missed him!"

**A/N: This is infact not the end. It is instead simply the start of a longer story. So don't go anywhere.**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I am not the creator of the Happy Tree Friends, I just don't have that kind of sarcasm in me.

**Chapter Two: Adventuring 101**

Several days later, Handy was on his way to work. He grumbled to himself as he sat in a traffic jam, unable to go forwards or backwards.

"Come on, come on," Handy complained, banging his face against the wheel, again "I have three kids to feed." He paused, as though letting the traffic jam ponder this, before muttering, "Their not mine, I didn't want them and they snuck into my dam one night and now I can't get rid of them. But I'm responsible damn it," his glare increased, as he thought about what he just said, and the stupidity of talking to traffic jams. "I hate my life."

He muttered something (which is unfortunately unrepeatable), why did he have to be such a softy? Petunia wasn't coming back to life until at least midday, according to his calender, so why did he have to visit her room every day? And what was with the flowers? It was pathetic. It wasn't like death was a big thing. Curse him and his stupid emotional attachment to people. He shrugged and turned on the radio. Smiling, something he did very infrequently, he began to nod his head to some old tune full of heavy drumbeats and endless guitar solos. His smile turned into a frown, however, when the radio presenters started to talk.

"Well it's that time of the week again, Harry." an annoyingly happy voice shouted from the radio.

"What time is that, Bill?" Replied another, similarly annoying voice.

"It's time for your daily dose of Handy-related humour." Handy ground his teeth. "And today is special. Ain't that right Harry?"

"That's right Bill, it's a Handy mocking marathon."

"So Harry, why did Handy cross the road?"

"Well I dunno Bill, why did Handy cross the road?"

"To get to the second hand shop Harry." Handy gave a moan, every single week. Every _freaking_ week.

"Hilarious, Bill. Real great. Got any more?"

"OK, OK, OK, well, you know, I'm real afraid of Handy, Harry. What with that glare and those tools and all."

"Well now Bill, you should never be afraid of Handy."

"And why's that Harry?"

Handy groaned, "Because he's completely armless." Every _single_ week. He pressed the boot release button on his truck as he was passing the radio station, pitching a ton of brick and mortar out of the back and straight into the studio.

"Wow," came a voice from the radio, "looks like someone's in a bad mood today."

"Yeah," came the other voice, "He ought to learn that you can't argue with publicly funded radio."

Handy grinned to himself sardoniacally, that'd teach those _freaking_...err... freaks. He was just about to turn off towards the bridge that he and the 'Handy Beaver Construction Company', had been building for the past few years, when the truck decided that it had its own plans. It turned off in the other direction and down a thin lane, through the bushes, and out into open country.

"Wait a minute." Handy growled, "I didn't want you to drive into no _freaking_ forest! What the 'ell's going on here!" Unfortunately, Handy's cursing was getting him nowhere, except for where the truck wanted to take him. He knew he was heading towards the cave with the idol outside it, even before the truck turned into the clearing. He gasped, the clearing was bigger than he remembered, and was filled with people, tigers in black uniform and various other animals in pinstriped suits. Handy smiled slightly as he saw the man ordering them. A tubby pink kitten in a bow tie, monocle and a bowler hat. He stared at the truck with big, baby blue eyes and grinned widely as it came to a stop. Handy smiled slightly as a tiger opened the door for him and Handy stepped awkwardly out of the truck. He wasn't used to stepping out of a vehicle. Climbing out the window was much more his style.

"How did you do that?" Handy asked.

"Well Handrew, my boy, that was me I'm afraid," came a sickeningly cheerful voice from inside the car.

"Ratskin," Handy grinned, his eyes betraying his anger. "I thought I checked for snakes before I set out."

"Oh very funny," Ratskin grinned, wider than usual, before rising out of the truck bonnet. Yellowish green and dressed in a red waistcoat, black scarf and explorer's hat, he slithered across the grass and wrapped around one of the taller soldiers like a scarf.

"And who are you supposed to be?" Handy asked the shorter kitten, with a disdainful glare, "The ghost of Christmas Past?"

"My name, is Tibbs." The kitten purred, stroking his chin.

"_The_, Mr Tibbs," Handy chuckled, "industrialist, billionaire and all around fat cat." Tibbs gave an indignant yowl.

"I prefer rotund feline," he sniffed, "But _ja_, technically, you are correct."

"So, Tibbs, any particular reason you had for dragging me away from my _incredibly_ demanding job and down memory lane."

"Ah, _mein Handlich_. That is exactly why I called you here. Your memories." Tibbs took a step towards Handy. "Most importantly, what you know about... these idols." He motioned around him and Handy gasped.

"What do you know about the idols?" Handy said darkly.

"Well," Tibbs began, "I know that they kill people and that these caves go right the way under Happy Tree Town and the surrounding forest. I also know that the entrances to the caves is guarded by these," he pointed to the large stone idol, "and that thus far this particular idol has killed any of my men who have so much as brushed against it. That, and made the rest hallucinate. Furthermore, I know that you know how to get past it, and I am willing to pay generously for your guidance." Handy considered it for a moment.

"Yeah, money's great. But we use Happy Tree Town Fun Dollars round here. So, your money's useless. So, what's in it for me?"

"Ah, who said anything about money," Tibbs smirked, "One of the companies I own creates bionics. Mind controlled robotics, if you will. We could get you a pair of cybernetic limbs. Like prosthetics, but actually capable of physical movement and designed to look real. To buy a single finger in the current climate costs thousands."

Handy pondered this for a second. "Do I get a nice hat?"

"The nicest."

"Well... OK, just keep that serpent away from me," Handy motioned towards Ratskin. Tibbs grinned.

"Very well. You will find all the equipment you need, and your team in the tent over there." Handy grumbled as he trudged away, he may be doing this job, and it may be paying well, but he had a feeling he wasn't going to enjoy it. He pushed the tent flap open and walked inside, where he was confronted by the figures inside. His new team mates.

Two racoon's grinned at him from the corner of the tent, each decked out in long coats and stroking bags of money affectionately. Nearby were two other shadowy figures. Handy couldn't see them properly, but he noticed claws, tentacles and a long bushy tail. Handy frowned. Nope, he definitely wasn't going to enjoy this.

...

Cuddles screamed. He was lying on a hospital bed, his body wracked with pain. You never really got used to coming back to life, even if you did it one hundred times. Cuddles had done it 243 times, and it still kind of freaked him out. The pain passed though, as it always did, and Cuddles hopped up from the bed. He didn't want to waste any time. You only got so much time in between deaths and no one was better at enjoying them than Cuddles. He swapped his green hospital slippers for his super-cool pink ones, and headed out of the door towards the hospital playground. He was about to enter the playground when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, spotting a familiar green bear. Cuddles winced slightly, even when he wasn't trying to kill them, the guy was still pretty scary.

"Err, have you seen Flaky anywhere?" Flippy asked, giving Cuddles a well meaning but thoroughly unnerving grin.

"Only just got back." Cuddles smiled nervously, "She avoiding you again?"

"Yeah..." Flippy looked sadly at his feet, "Err, if you see her, could you give her this." He pointed at a small heart shaped box in his hand.

"What is it?"

"Her heart. I wanted to apologise for ripping it out." Cuddles felt like he was going to be sick.

"You know what?" Cuddles backed away, "It might be better if you gave it to her when she's feeling better. Might give the wrong impression if I did it." He laughed nervously, before running off in the other direction as fast as he could. He was glad when he looked behind him and couldn't see Flippy.

He waved to Toothy and Giggles, who were on the swings, as he entered the playground and called his friends over to him.

"What ya mean 'ow do ya know these be my legs?" Russel growled at Lumpy in his incomprehensible language as he maneuvered his wheelchair away from the moose and towards his friends, "Who else in the deep blue sea d'ya know with no legs." Cuddles grinned to Toothy, he didn't understand a word that Russel said, but he was still a good friend. It was partly because Russel was a nice guy, but mostly because Russel was a pirate, and pirates were cool. Flaky approached him, somewhat shakily, and looked at his excited face with a look of dread.

"You'll never guess what I found in the forest the other day!" he shouted, when they were all paying attention, nearly knocking Flaky out of her skin.

"It better not be one of those dead bird caught in bear trap things again," Petunia muttered, "I still have nightmares about the last time you took us down there." Cuddles grinned up at Petunia. She was slightly taller than him, being physically the oldest kid in the group. She was kind of a big sister to them, always bossing them around and making suggestions that sounded nuts at the time, but were actually really clever with afterthought (e.g. once you got back to life). Next to her, Sniffles gave a little chuckle.

"Hehe, yeah, that was real funny Petunia, you screamed for hours. OW!" he rubbed the back of his head and glared at Giggles, who looked away and whistled innocently. Cuddles grinned at Giggles, who blushed, and everyone else present rolled their eyes. Everyone could see that Cuddles had a thing for Giggles, except for Giggles herself. She had currently rounded down possible girlfriends for Cuddles to Flaky and Petunia, but she wasn't exactly sure which. She was oblivious to Cuddles' rather obvious advances and appeared to ignore her own feelings for him.

"Or is it one of those, let's knock Toothy's eyes out of his head and see how long it takes for him to find them," Cuddles best friend, Toothy, said sarcastically.

"I keep telling you, that was an accident," Cuddles grinned.

"Is it candy," Nutty giggled, shaking slightly and bouncing off the walls of the jungle gym, "Is it? Is it? Is it? 'Cos I really need candy, see. Hehe. I need it sooo bad... Anyone want some candy?" Nutty pushed up close to Cuddles, who took a step away from Nutty. Cuddles stared at the squirrel, he wasn't even going to dignify that question with a response.

"There was this really big scary statue thing," Cuddles began, lifting his hands above his head, pulling a grotesque face and stomping around the playground, and causing Flaky to hop out the way, and hide behind the slide. Everybody else laughed, Cuddles could be really funny when he wanted to be. "It's out in the forest. It looks like a huge ugly monkey with a spear, and it makes you hallucinate when you go near it!" He gave his best monster roar, causing Toothy to fall to the ground, laughing his head off and Flaky to scream and try to run away. Cuddles grabbed her spines, keeping the astoundingly weak and nonathletic porcupine in place.

"Ah come on Flaky," Toothy grinned, "what'd we do without you, eh."

"B-but, that kinda sounds like the sorta thing that we shouldn't be investigating."

"'Course it is," Toothy smiled, his buck teeth even more noticeable whenever he did so, "but don't you want to know **why** we shouldn't be investigating it?"

"No. Not really." Flaky muttered.

"Great!" Toothy grinned, grabbing her hand and trying to drag her off in the direction of the forest, "Come on then!" Toothy and Cuddles set off, but their way was blocked by Petunia.

"You aren't really going to go and look for this thing are you?" Petunia asked. Giggles nodded.

"Yeah. It does seem a bit stupid. But hey, it's not like I've got anything better to do."

"Well," Petunia said, "I haven't cleaned in days (on account of being dead). As soon as I get out of this hospital I'm heading straight home." Mime stared at her, shrugged and nodded furiously in agreement.

"Well, no one said you had to," Sniffles said.

"Yeah," Cuddles agreed, "So we'll just go and look, and you can stay here with _that_." He motioned over to Disco Bear, who was busy combing his hair. As if on cue, _the thing_ made its way over. Pointing with both hands and winking.

"Okay, okay," Petunia sighed, "I'll come along. Man, you play dirty." She stepped into place behind Cuddles, and was instantly joined by Mime, who grinned up at her. Petunia smiled slightly, Mime was quite a few years younger than the other kids. He was cute, but the following her around he often did could sometimes get pretty creepy.

"Yarr," Russel piped up from somewhere behind her, "you get me ma legs back an' I'll be the cap'n of your crew."

"Err, thanks," Giggles rubbed the back of her head, "but Cuddles is in charge. Cuddles is always in charge."

"Why?"

"Dunno. Just is." And with that Cuddles, Giggles, Toothy, Mime, Petunia, Flaky, Sniffles and Russel headed off towards the forest.

...

The friends sang as they skipped through the forest path, led by Cuddles and Toothy, who was dragging Flaky. She hadn't wanted to come, that much was blatantly obvious, but she didn't want everyone to be mad at her, so she had fallen into line, and was trudging sullenly after them. As they were walking Sniffles suddenly had an idea.

"So, what's our name?" he asked.

"Well, duh," Toothy rolled his eyes, talking to him slowly and sarcastically, like he was an idiot, "I'm Toothy, and that's Cuddles and Giggles and you're name is..."

"No, you brain dead beaver," Sniffles scoffed, "Our club name."

"Oh, I knew that. Well, err... how about Toothy and the boys?"

"Hey," the three girls of the group grumbled.

"The Sinister Seven?"

"That, kinda gives the wrong impression."

"And besides there are eight of us."

"The SSSSS Super Squad?"  
"Yarr, that be taken."

"Jedward? The Jolly Green Giants? The Unholy Cult of The Fifteenth Tuesday of November?"

"Okay, all in favour of Toothy shutting up?" Cuddles growled. Seven of the children raised their hands. Toothy gave a huff and switched into sulk mode. "Now, Giggles, any ideas?"

"It needs to be something that tells everyone who we are." Giggles suggested.

"Eye, and it needs to 'ave something to do with ships." Russel grinned, "Jus' like daddy always used t' say. 'Everythin's 'bout ships Russ', tha's what 'e always used t' say.'"

"B-but it shouldn't sound to scary..." Flaky said with a nervous laugh.

'And it needs to be spoken entirely in sign language' Mime thought, though he didn't say as much.

"And it needs to be clean," Petunia said, glaring at Sniffles, who stopped giggling and grinned innocently, "both literally and metaphorically. Uhh, It's always the clever ones isn't it?"

"OK," Giggles said, wracking her brain, "how about... no, that's not right... hmm... the S.S... A... T?"

"S-SAT, eh?" Cuddles asked, grinning at the girl, "What does that stand for?"

"Err... the Slightly Stupid Adventure Team?" Giggles suggested with a shrug. Cuddles laughed, and Giggles blushed.

"Slightly... hahaha... Stupid Adventure... hahaha... Team." Cuddles roared, "Tha-ahaha, that's... hahahaha... hilarious!" Giggles was slightly taken aback. She'd thought he was laughing at her, but, now that she thought of it, it was pretty funny. She started to giggle, and Mime 'joined in' adding his silent titter to the group. Russel gave a hearty laugh, which was so out of place on land that it caused Petunia and Sniffles to laugh too. When Flaky began her own nervous laugh, Toothy, who had been sulking, and not listening to a word anyone was saying, pricked up his ears and turned around in surprise.

"Hey!" He shouted, "You'd better not be laughing at my teeth again!"

This made the others laugh even harder and their angry buck toothed friend stomped his feet indignantly.

"Come on guys!What's so funny? Tell me!"

Cuddles took a breath, there was nothing quite like laughter to make the fear constantly gnawing at the bottom of your stomach subside. He grinned around him at his friend, turning the corner, and stopping dead.

They all stopped.

Something wasn't right.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Happy Tree Friends. Nope, I just own the lamer, less funny characters, that Mondo Media doesn't.

A/N: First one to guess who Handy is parodying wins a cookie. Also the name of the tiger in this chapter is inspired by the name of the villain of Jungle Book (I'm sure I'm not the first one to use that name), just because I'm that unimaginative.

**Chapter Three: Into the ****Tunnels**

Several hours before Cuddles had even woken up in the hospital, Handy was ready, and standing before the giant idol. He grinned to himself, trying to pull his new fedora down over his eyes, before realising he had no hands. His signature frown appeared on his face, and he flicked up a long thread of bandages that, for some reason, he hadn't been able to gnaw off when he changed them, using this instead to rearrange his hat. After this he patted his leather jacket affectionately with the nubs that once had hands on the end and checked himself once more in the full length mirror that he had somehow managed to haul out of the tent.

"Oh, the indulgence..." the eerily grinning Ratskin hissed from behind him, "anything elssse you'll be wanting with your bionic armsss."

"Piss off," Handy growled, trying not to be sick as the creature ran across his feet, its leathery skin brushing over them. The snake was always like this, happy. Not happy in a nice way, happy in a malicious way. He was happy at the misery of the world, and all the misery that he caused. Ratskin rose up to his full height, at least twice as tall as Handy, and hissed vehemently.

"If that'sss what you really want, ssi ssi ssi ssi." he laughed his hissing laugh and slithered away, into the crowd of nearby tiger soldiers, who were shifting around uncomfortably, holding their weapons in a way that showed that they were only too happy to shoot everyone they knew in the face for a buck. It made Handy sick. Literally. A few moments later, Tibbs walked over to the armless beaver, slapping him on the back and grabbing his attention.

"Cleaning out the system, eh _mein lakai_?" he grinned, attempting to sound casual. But, if Handy had known just what _mein lakai_, meant, he may not have been happy.

"Uh, what?" Handy wiped his mouth, straightening up.

"Ready to help us, then?" Tibbs purred, his usual blue eyes wide and power hungry. Handy grinned back at him, taking another step towards the idol and over the chalk line that had been drawn around the idol's 'danger zone'. Behind him, the two raccoons who, after much 'persuasion', had been forced to come along with him, fell back, groaning something stupid about money and red hot pokers. Tibbs, who had been about to follow Handy, shrank away from the circle and back towards the tents. Handy chuckled slightly, the world clouding before his eyes, and a dreadful images filling his mind. He strode gallantly forwards, wreaking of bravado, while secretly feeling slightly queasy, even if he did know what had to be done. He pressed onwards, positioning himself over an 'X' carved in the dirt and began to speak.

"It needs a code," he said shakily, tripping slightly as the images tried to overpower him. He looked down at his mouth, which was full of blood. Spitting on the ground, he forced himself to continue. "Trick is, not to get freaked out by these damned hallucinations. If you can manage that, you've got past the first stage of defence. Second stage is the password."

"Which is?" Tibbs grinned, rubbing his hands together with glee. From inside the crowd of soldiers, Ratskin stared at the beaver, licking his lips hungrily. Handy grinned confidently.

"Open sesame seeds." Handy said, raising his 'hands'. The idol's spear lifted, and Handy came face to face with the final line of defence. A thumb print registration system. His mouth fell open and his face fell as he took this in. Damn his short sightedness.

"For the love of god just shoot it," came the ever self-confident voice of the head of the tiger soldiers, General Khan. The tigers readied their weapons and shot the idol to pieces. Handy ground his teeth, all of that time he had spent on building it, and they just blew it up. Ma would've been furious. He stared back down at the traitorous stumps where his hands had once, long ago, been. Thumb print registration? How could he have been so stupid? He looked up. Khan sneered as he walked passed him, a large lobster like thing spat on the ground in front of him, despite having no apparent mouth, and Ratskin even had the gall to slither over him, pushing his nose futher into his head, grazing his face and flattening his brown fedora against his hard hat. He shook himself, glaring at the ground. He saw a pair of pink feet, and looked up at his boss.

"Well?" Tibbs began, "You failed us? Let us hope you are better at finding your way around, no, mein Handlich?" He motioned to the cave. "We don't know our way around the caves do we? We have no map. But I am sure that you will be only to happy to assist us, no?" Handy grimaced, leading the way...

...

Cuddles stared, the idol had been smashed into little pieces and, since he had been there, but days before, the entire area had been cordoned off with yellow and black tape. The place was filled with tents, vehicles and even an army truck. It was, however, almost empty. He raised his eyebrows, two figures were lying unconscious in the middle of it all. Or at least, they were trying to look unconscious, they were very unconvincing, the fact that they were fighting over a bag of money probably didn't help. Obviously work wasn't that important to them. That or they were scared. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Lifty and Shifty," Sniffles said, poking Lifty, who moaned slightly, with a stick, "figures." Petunia smiled, walking up to the tape and reading it.

"'Shifty line, police do not cross'," She chuckled, the word police was in bold, "who do these guys think they're kidding." Toothy grinned, well, toothily at Cuddles and began to climb over.

"Wait! Don't!" Giggles shouted, catching his arm.

"Oh, let me guess," Toothy said, "Little miss Perfect doesn't want us crossing the line because there must be a reason for it being here and wah, wah, wah."

"That wasn't what I was going to say." Giggles sniffed, slightly hurt, "I was just going to say wouldn't it be a better idea for Russel to cut the wire with his hook so we can get through?"

"Arr, she gotta point, laddy." Russel agreed. Toothy rubbed the back of his head apologetically and climbed off the line. After a short vote in which the SS Adventure Team decided that Toothy should shut up, Russel cut the line and the friends headed through. Sniffles sat down on a rock, poking Lifty with a stick and having great fun watching the feigning raccoon squirm. Flaky tapped him on the shoulder.

"Err... I-isn't that a b-bad idea?" Flaky shivered, "What happens if he wakes up?"

Sniffles grinned, "Well, no one's keeping you here." He looked down at her wrist, and immediately realised his mistake. Flaky's hand was firmly handcuffed to Toothy's backpack and it was pretty obvious that she wasn't going anywhere. "Oh." he said.

Over by the cave, Cuddles took a step towards the broken idol, and flinched slightly. The idol's head was lying on its side, glaring up at the bunny with the same heartless eyes that it had had the last time he'd seen it.

"That's one of those things, isn't that?" Giggles asked, walking over and standing next to Cuddles. Mime scratched his head, turning to Petunia questioningly, pointing at her with both hands, winking and grinning, before shrugging.

"No!" Petunia giggled slightly, "Not Disco Bear, though that would be pretty creepy, one of those idol things." Mime slapped his forehead and rolled his eyes. She hadn't got it.

"Yarr, you understand that drivel of 'is, landlubber?" Russel asked.

"About as well as I understand what you say."

"Whole thing's kraken swill if ya ask me." Russel barked looking a bit miffed by Petunia's comment, and, turning away from her, he stared into the cave.

"What now?" Giggles asked Cuddles, somewhat disappointed by the lack of scariness of this adventure.

"Guess we'll just have to check out the cave." Cuddles shrugged.

"Yeah!" Toothy grinned, turning round to Flaky, "The big spooky cave," Flaky gulped, "with spiders," Flaky began to shiver slightly, "and monsters," Flaky tried to hide behind Sniffles, "and CHICKS!" Flaky screamed, and Giggles and Petunia both slapped Toothy on the back of the head, with extraordinary strength, knocking him over.

"Stop it!" Giggles complained.

"Yeah. Don't be so mean." Petunia piped up.

"Spoilsports..." Toothy snarled, lifting himself to his knees.

"All in favour of checking out the cave?" Cuddles asked, looking around, every hand was raised, except for Flaky and Petunia, who looked apprehensively at each other, and Sniffles, who wasn't really paying attention. Cuddles grinned, "Then into the cave it is." Petunia gave a little jump as the others walked into the cave.

"B-but, we can't go in there!" Petunia moaned, and Flaky nodded her head, fighting against Cuddles grip around her wrist "It's so dirty!"

Behind her Sniffles looked up, the other kids were heading into the cave, he shrugged, poking Lifty was starting to get old, he was sure he'd have lots more fun in the cave. He got up, and was about to head after them, when a hand grabbed his snout, pulling him down.

"Watch where ya put that stick," Lifty growled, "It's not nice to poke others." He pulled Sniffles close to him and gave a growl, partly because of Sniffles, but mostly because Shifty had just swiped the money bag. Sniffles gasped for breath, unable to breath as his airflow was restricted by the raccoon's fist, he gasped, and blacked out.

"Aww, come on Petunia."

"No. If you all want to go in and get dirty then be my guest."

"Come on..."

"No." Shifty grinned at his brother and the two pulled themselves up to their feet. The children, with the exception of Petunia and Flaky, who were facing away from them, gasped. The friends backed away, and waved their arms hastily as they attempted to get them to notice the two raccoons.

"Seriously, you have to come now!" Cuddles yelled.

"No." Petunia sniffed, staring at the dirty cave in distaste, as the figures got closer.

"Yarr, hurry up, lassy!" Russel shouted.

"I-I-I'd rather not..." Flaky muttered.

"Come on!" Giggles squeaked, as Lifty and Shifty reached out to grab Petunia.

"At least let me clean i- HEY- gmmph..." Petunia gasped as Shifty grabbed her tail. She struggled to escape, and Lifty pushed his hand over her mouth (she bit him). Flaky screamed, rushing in the opposite direction from the two brothers so fast that she knocked Toothy, who had forgotten he was handcuffed to her, off his feet. Cuddles, Russel and Giggles all screamed rushing after Toothy in a mass panic, and dragging the silently protesting Mime after them. Cuddles gasped, following after the tail of his purple buck toothed friend. He turned to the other two. They were both falling behind, after all, Giggles wasn't really that sporty and Russel was having to drag the protesting Mime behind him.

Lifty and Shifty grinned to each other as they tied the violently struggling blue skunk to the limp, and not particularly clean, Sniffles. Petunia gasped and gagged, beginning to hyperventilate as they tied her to him with rope that had been lying on the ground for at least a day or two. She began to whimper as the two raccoons looked down at her with their signature evil smirks.

"Well, well, well," Shifty grinned, "how ya doin' Petunia." Petunia didn't answer, she just shivered and squirmed against the ropes.

"You're not gonna get those ropes off, Pet'." Lifty grinned, "They're tighter than a..."

"SHUT UP LIFTY!" Shifty growled, sensing a crude pun was imminent, "Now, check 'er fer valuables."

"You check 'er fer valuables." Lifty sneered, shoving his fingers into his brothers nose and pulling his head backwards, much to Shifty's annoyance.

"No, you check 'er fer valuables!" Shifty kicked Lifty in the knee.

"You check 'er fer valuables!" Lifty poked Shifty in the eyes.

"Look," Shifty growled, head butting Lifty in the face before kicking him in the crotch and then ramming him into a nearby tree, "Who's the boss 'ere, eh? Now check 'er fer valuables!" Lifty gave a grumble, but kept his thoughts to himself as he stepped forwards and searched Petunia, rather more thoroughly than she really would've liked. Lifty touched the bite marks on his hand testily (It would've been better for all involved if he had not tried to check if she had anything hidden down her throat) and turned back to his brother.

"Ain't got nothin'." he shrugged.

"What about that necklace thin'" Shifty smirked

"Necklace thin'?" Lifty asked.

"Yeah, that tree shaped green one." Shifty pointed, and Lifty too grinned. Petunia squirmed slightly, attempting to hide the pine shaped necklace. Her father had once given it to her as a birthday present. Petunia's mother had berated him for giving his daughter the car's air freshener. She had called him a cheap skate, hit him with a rolling pin and made him sleep on the sofa for a week, but Petunia had felt differently. She had loved the thing, it had stopped her from spraying the surrounding area with skunk stink when she got nervous, angry or scared and kept her sweet smelling. It was so hard to keep sweet smelling when you were a skunk and sweet was clean and clean was good, the most important thing in the world in fact. Lifty reached out for it, and Petunia bit his hand again.

"No!" she squeaked, "You can't have it. It's special!" Lifty growled.

"What is it with you and biting me?" He shouted, tears of pain rolling down his cheeks as he sucked his paw.

"Sentimental value, eh. Well, I guess we can always sell it back t' ya later, huh." Shifty grinned, smacking Petunia around the face, to avoid further biting and swiping the pine freshener. Petunia gasped, a tear rolled down her face. This was horrible. How could they do this to her, what sort of creeps were they and why was it so important for them to tie her and Sniffles up? She sniffed, and her eyes watered.

"Aww, is the little baby gonna cry?" Shifty grinned maliciously. He sniffed the air victoriously, and his nose nearly turned inside out. Lifty grinned at his brother, giving a giggle, and then smelling the air, and throwing up on the ground. Both brothers fell to the ground, gasping, and fainted, this time genuinely. Petunia herself gasped from this unfamiliar stench that she had caused, before lifting herself to her feet, and hopping towards the cave, dragging the awakening Sniffles behind her. The cave may not be clean, but anywhere was better than here. She gasped, trying to push down her urges to scream and hyperventilate, and entered the cave.

...

Cuddles pricked up his ears, hearing footsteps coming down the tunnel, heavy footsteps. They seemed far too heavy to be made by Lifty and Shifty. It sounded like something big. Really big. But maybe that was just being in the cave.

"They're coming, guys," he said grimly, turning to the other kids hiding behind the rock.

"T-T-Toothy," Flaky whimpered, pushing closer to the purple beaver for fear of the wall of the cave opening and swallowing her up. "I'm scared."

"Yes." Toothy growled through gritted teeth, attempting to pull Flaky's sharp quills out of his body and remove the bits of gravel from his eyes, "I know."

"What are we going to do?" Giggles asked, tugging on Russel's sleeve.

"'Ow should I know?" Russel shivered, his cool deserting him in the darkness of the underground "I be jus' a pirate. An' not a good one at that." He sniffed, looking downhearted. Giggles patted him on the back and smiled softly. Cuddles turned to them, determination etched all over his face. He had a plan.

"OK" he began, "Toothy, you run over to that side of the cave and hide behind that rock." Toothy did as he was told. Cuddles then grabbed Flaky's wrist so that she couldn't run away and waited. The huge lumpy figure rounded the corner loping towards the rocks. It passed them and gave a yelp. The handcuffs pulled tight. The thing fell to the ground and began to struggle, and Cuddles, Giggles and Russel all prepared to pounce upon it, and beat the snot out of it. Cuddles punched his fist against his palm, he had been waiting to try out the new karate move that he had learnt over the internet. Unfortunately, before he could use his new move, someone had grabbed his shoulder. He turned around and spotted Toothy.

"What?" he asked, somewhat angrily, "This isn't time for a joke Toothy."

"No, just look at what we caught for a second." Cuddles rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. He gasped, noticing what the figure was for the first time. Their two friends were, while still tied to each other, struggling to turn around and get up. This was incredibly difficult, as their arms were tied behind their back, their legs were tied right down to their feet and they had absolutely no co-ordination. Petunia was coughing from the dust that had got into her throat when she fell and, somehow, managing to hyperventilate at the same time. She gasped and her eyes bulged as she shivered and squirmed, taking in the mess in front of her. Sniffles was moaning slightly, his face pushed into the ground by the sheer weight of rope and terrified, struggling skunk on top of him.

"Petunia! Sniffles! What are you doing here?" Giggles exclaimed, coughing violently when she got close enough to her friend to actually smell her. "And what is that horrible smell?" Cuddles sniffed the air and wretched, coughing up blood, or something horribly similar. Maybe he shouldn't have eaten all that ketchup for breakfast. Petunia just stared, and suddenly her body went rigid, as her friends fell about, coughing and spluttering at the disgusting, nose curling smell. But she wasn't staring at them, she was staring passed them. For this time it was she, and not them, who could see something. Just above them, spiraling down from the high cave roof was something. Something fast. And something dangerous. And something red. It shot down like a bullet, hitting Mime hard in the back of the head. Mime gave a silent yelp, and fell to the ground, holding his head. The red flying squirrel grinned, all too aware that all eyes were upon him. He grinned smugly as a platoon of tiger soldiers, hearing the racket, and the raccoon twins, intent on revenge, rounded the corner, surrounding the eight friends, who backed up as far as they could, until they were standing, back to back, facing the enemy. They tried to look brave. But they were only children. They were scared, it was obvious, written all over their faces. The squirrel gave a cocky laugh, commanding the attention of all around him, and clapped his hands slowly. Mocking the children who he floated above. Trapping them. Crushing them with his glare. Penning them in like cattle with his eyes. He smiled confidently and landed on the ground.

"Well," Splendont drawled, "looks like **I **caught **me **some trespassers."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I now own Happy Tree Friends. That's right, by illegally changing my name to Mondo Media, I now have full control of all the characters. Take that.

A/N: For the following chapter, excessive research of the fifties has been done on TV Tropes.

**Chapter Four: Kidnapped and stuff**

Giggles shook her head woozily. The world around her swam with voices, as hazy and indistinct as their owners. The whole universe was jumbled up. Or was it just her head that was jumbled? She shook herself. No. She was starting to sound like Nutty. She wasn't going to let being knocked out get to her. She blinked rapidly, staring up at her captors, a look of terror on her face.

"Good morning, _mein Gekicher_," the fat kitten began, "and how was your little sleep." Giggles looked up at him, the look of terror replaced with one of confusion on her face.

"How do you know my name... in German?" Giggles asked.

"Oh yes," the kitten growled, his candy floss colour fur standing up on his back, "I am fat, so you assume I am German? Lovely."

"I'm sorry," Giggles murmured, "I just assumed."

"Well, lucky for you I am German." Tibbs growled, "But, maybe you will not be so lucky next time, no?" Giggles glared, she didn't like this cat. She tried to stand and walk over to the feline to give him a piece of her mind. But as she did so, her arms were pulled back behind her, and she was forced back down into a sitting position. She gasped, staring down at her arms and legs, which she now noticed had been heavily shackled, pulled under hoops on the floor and then attached to Cuddles' arms and legs. Speaking of Cuddles, the boy was beginning to stir, as where the rest of her friends.

"Ah, how are you?" Tibbs began, "Liebkosungen? Petunie? Zahnlich?"

"Will you please stop doing that!" Giggles screamed. This gratuitous German naming was getting quite obnoxious.

"Flockig?" Tibbs grinned, pointing his paw at Flaky mockingly. Giggles sprang to her feet, charging at him. Tibbs laughed as Cuddles was slammed hard into the floor, and Giggles flung back into him. Tibbs glowered down at the girl, his eyes filled with cruel joy, and turned to the figures behind him.

"Take care of our guests," he snapped, "make sure they are _comfortable_." He turned away, attempting to look imposing. This affect was completely ruined when Petunia suddenly regained consciousness and saw a short pink cat standing directly in front of her.

"Aww!" Petunia muttered sleepily, "He's sooo cute." Tibbs pouted, hit her on the head with a frying pan, and stalked out. He turned to the two raccoons outside the cell, and grinned maliciously.

"Wake the blue one up," Tibbs purred, "We wouldn't want her to miss out on what the Shrimp's planning." There was a hiss from the shadows and a large creature unfurled from the shadows. The creature gave a rough clicking noise and snapped its claws.

"Who are you calling 'shrimp'." The massive creature growled.

"You." Tibbs groaned, rolling his eyes, "That's your name." He turned on his heel and stomped out. His evil was not having a good day.

As the kitten left, Shifty turned to his brother, a wicked smile playing across his face. He turned towards the door, pushing it closed. Even if they were chained up, Shifty liked having something between him and the captives. Normally, he would use Lifty, but his brother ran away too much, so a metal door was much better.

...

The bear whistled a little tune as he walked back home, swinging his bowling bag merrily. He waved to one of his neighbors, who was coming back from a romantic evening at Les Petites de Repas, and grinned as he surveyed his perfectly triangular trees and perfect lawn. He gave a short chuckle and stuck his pipe in his mouth, reaching up to take off his well kept brown hat. Ah, his house. His castle. He sighed, swell place to be, your castle. Somewhere where you're your own boss, and no one can tell you what way to go or which when to where. Concluding his garbled thoughts, Pop stepped into his house and walked straight over to the fridge, pulling it open to retrieve a tin of baby mush. He sighed contentedly. Eleven at night on a Thursday was the best time of the week. Bowling Night. He hadn't been bothered by his childish, childless neighbor, Cuddles, for the entire day and, while Giggles still hadn't turned up to babysit, the day had been relatively stress-free. He walked into the sitting room and was unsurprised when he saw Cub, sitting safely in his highchair, watching the 'Super-Scary-Horror-Movie-Channel'. Pop tutted at his son and turned off the telly. Cub really shouldn't be watching that; those flashing images could really ruin your eyes. But, that was kids for you, never listening.

"How ya doin', sport?" Pop grinned over at his son, who passed him the popcorn, without looking away from, the now off, television. "Anything good on?" Cub shrugged, his eyes slightly square, and Pop ruffled his child's hair affectionately. The man looked down at his hand, and noticed that he was still holding the baby mush. He grinned, rubbing his stomach, making an mmm sound and placing the mush on the highchair. Cub giggled and reached out for the mush, causing Pop to frown slightly and take it away.

"Hey. Now, hold your horses, sport," Pop ordered, closing his eyes and taking a puff on his pipe, "You don't think you're getting this with an attitude like that." He placed the mush on the lamp stand, where it was immediately grabbed by Cub, and continued. "I work hard to buy you this canned produce, and I just want you to appreciate that. 'Cos one day, kid, you're gonna have to smarten up and ship out into the big wide world and then your good ol' Pop won't be around to buy you baby mush. You'll have to feed your family, you'll have to work" He chuckled slightly, unaware that his son was already half way through his meal, "'cos sure as hell you wouldn't want your wife doing it."

His face fell, talking about wives always made him remember her. His own wife who had died years before. That had left him a widower. You were supposed to remarry when stuff like that happened. You were supposed to, but he just couldn't. He sniffed, he couldn't forget her, couldn't find someone new. It wasn't what everyone thought, not like the local housewives rumors said, about him being 'somewhat suspect'. No, he wasn't like that. He didn't even know any men who acted like that. It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to women. No, he just couldn't move on. Work didn't make things any better, the boss's wife was trying to play matchmaker with him and her friends, and his own friends just reminded him, if not intentionally, that they were married and he wasn't. He groaned, he could hear his neighbour, Eddy, talking in the other room. He was talking to his wife too. Pop groaned again, it seemed like everyone had a wife. Every average guy on his average, family planned street had an average wife and three or four average kids. Even his house wanted him to have a family. It had three bedrooms. One for him and his wife, one for his kid, and one for those other kids they were planning to have before the 'accident'. Pop felt a tear roll down his face. So much for happy families. So much for two parents to bring up Cub. And so much for 3.8 kids per family. Cub babbled something, and Pop turned to him, pipe still smoking in his hand.

"Sure, kid, I'll get you a bottle." Cub clapped his hands excitedly and his father left the room for the kitchen. Pop crossed the kitchen and his face sagged. He walked over to the kitchen sink and washed his face, before doing the same with a few of the dishes. He groaned, walking over to the fridge and taking out Cub's bottle, he also took out, after some thought, a highball. It probably shouldn't have been in the fridge, but, heck, it was an easy place to find it. He walked back into the sitting room, plonking the milk down on the highchair, and picking up the paper. Pop groaned, another stupid political story on the front page, something about some guy called Kenny (or something similar) wanting to be president. "Kenny, pfft, you're not getting anywhere with a name like Kenny. Anyway, what's wrong with good ol' Truman, eh?" he took another puff on his pipe, "Am I right, sport? And then there's something about that Elvis, I tell you kid, decades only just started and we're already losing it to Rock and Beatniks." There was no reply. Pop shrugged, continuing to read. After muttering something about 'Dirty Commies' reading aloud a rather troubling article about a possible connection between the rise house fires, Jewish bank conspiracies and nuclear war, finishing the crossword and reading the entire sports page twice, just to make sure that the Happy Tree Rhinos had actually beaten the Jolly Lake Lions, when he had a thought.

"Archie," he held up one of the newspaper comics, "or the Adventures of Patsy?" No reply, "Sport?" Pop looked round.

Cub wasn't there. That was odd. Real odd. Pop got up, looked around the room, checked Cub's bedroom in case the little rugrat had tucked himself in. And the bathroom in case he'd drowned in the bath again. He then re-entered the sitting room. He didn't remember putting that ransom note there either. He gasped, he recognised that handwriting, that _girly_, _effeminate _writing. He dropped his pipe, and was out of the door and over his precious lawn in half a second. Flat.

...

Pop stepped into the town hall, well aware of the fact that he was being booed by the, particularly annoying, blue moose. OK, he admitted it, being woken at near midnight was not the best way to start your day. He walked across the hall, to raised platform in the middle of the room, drawing more boos, and the occasional tomato. He stepped up to the podium and looked down at the uncharacteristically unhappy community gathered before him. He stared around at the crowd, and something caught his eye.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing at Lumpy.

"My antlers?" Lumpy said, pointing at them, "Oh, is one upside down again?" He grabbed his left antler and twisted it around, causing the other antler to twist the wrong way up as well. Pop raised an eyebrow, they were connected in the middle.

"No, not that." Pop said, "That." He pointed at something that looked like a cabbage.

"A cabbage," Lumpy shrugged, readjusting his night cap.

"Why do you even have a cabbage, freak?" A nearby pig in a sailor suit asked, spitting on the floor and blowing a raspberry.

"Yeah, don't you talk to lettuce? Why do you have a cabbage?" A generic tree friend asked.

"Well," Lumpy began, "I talk to lettuce. But, I sleep with a cabbage. After all, it helps me with my snoring." Pop's mouth fell open.

"You, are a strange, strange man..." Pop drifted off, and an awkward silence fell over the hall. This silence was ruined, when Nutty broke down the door, much to the mayor's annoyance.

"What's the hubbub, bud?" Nutty grinned, spinning around like a top as he made his way towards a rather startled Pop. "What's with waking me so early? Late? Tuesday? Yeah that's the one..." He stopped mid spinning, drawing the disapproving eyes of everyone present, he dug inside his pockets, pulling out a handful of gaudily coloured sweets. "Anyone want any candy?" A small child reached out towards the funny man, but his mother snatched his hand away, and Nutty grinned, eyes spinning as he swallowed the candy, before beginning to spin again. Pop groaned. why was it always like this? You need help and all you ever get is crazy people. Although, in Happy Tree Town, that wasn't really a surprise. There was some unassuming squirrel in the corner, trying to pretend that he couldn't fly. There also was Nutty, that little lamb girl with the pickle and some bear who Pop could remember having seen only a few times before, usually in a crowd. He assumed he was no less weird. He looked at least twenty years too early for whatever he was trying to dress as, all big hair and women shoes. A frozen caveman, possibly the most normal one of them here, was standing in the middle. He was a bit cold, but at least he was clever. Cro stared up at Pop quizzically. It wasn't that the caveman didn't trust him, Pop realised, the popsicle man just didn't trust his judgment. Somehow that was supposed to be different. Pop didn't really get it. Maybe he should've been born smarter.

"So," A tired looking Flippy in a khaki night cap yawned, "Why have you called us here anyway?"

"Yes," Knutt said, glaring across at the green bear, "Why did you invite us both here? Do you want me to kick crazy's butt?" Pop shook his head and face palmed, that was one strange squirrel. He looked down at the crowd again, trying to regain composure.

"Now... where was I... Oh yeah, now I remember!" he gave a chuckle and began to talk, "OK, I know you're all real mad for being woken up so late, but this is urgent..."

"Hey! What can be urgent enough to interrupt DB's beauty sleep? DB needs to look his best for the laaadies..." He turned and gave a wink to the women in the audience, who mostly screamed or vomited. Disco Bear pointed to no one in particular, and was rather surprised to be hit on the head by a pickle, two berets (one red, one green) and multiple handbags. He fell to the ground, buried under the mountain of objects, so that only his platform shoes could be seen. Pop groaned, why couldn't these people just shut up.

_Wow, I sure am glad I didn't said that _aloud, Pop thought.

"WHY CAN'T YOU PEOPLE JUST SHUT UP?" Pop screamed, before putting his hand over his mouth. Everyone in the room stared at him. Lumpy's mouth fell open. Pop gulped, stretched the collar of his dressing gown and continued. "Err... sorry about that, kids." he muttered, "But, I need your help, unfortunately. My kid has been kidnapped by a delinquent and... err... he seems to think I can help him..."

"You?" Truffles scoffed, "How can you help anyone?"

"Err... yeaaah." Lammy baaed from somewhere near the obnoxious piglet, "You aaare pretty laaame... Mr Pop, sir." She blushed slightly, and fiddled awkwardly with a thread on her jumper. Pop sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently.

"It's about..." he looked around him. Should he trust them? Did he dare? It was supposed to be a secret, known only by the members of the Ancient and Greatly Honoured Society of Happy Home Owners (A.G.H.S.H.H.O). It was supposed to be a secret. The society would never forgive him. Then again... as far as he knew Handy was the only member who was left. Pop took a deep breath, then continued.

"... The Idols." Pop finished. Everyone in the room gasped, stepping back slightly from the podium that Pop stood behind. Pop stepped down, off the stage, and stepped towards the crowd, who backed further away. "Look," Pop began, "I know this is hard for you to understand and... I know some of you may hate me because of those idols..."

"Hate you?" someone shouted, "You're the reason we keep dying!"

"...But you don't understand! The idols were never supposed to cause hurt. They were supposed to help us..."

"Help us? By killing us?"

"By stopping death from being final..."

"Yeah. But soon as we leave this town we just die again."

"Heck." another voice began, "We can't even leave. We die before we get out."

"Yeah! What were you creeps thinking?" Truffles laughed. Pop rounded on him, pulled back his arm, and threw his pipe hard on the ground. A dull clinking sound rang out through the hall, and the angry chatter stopped.

"That creep," Pop said slowly, taking a step towards the piglet with each word, "was my wife." He stopped infront of Truffles, eyes blazing as he stared at the piglet.

"Whatever." Truffles shrugged, getting up and heading for the door. "You wanna get killed? Then keep me outta it."

Lumpy and Knutt were the next to get up. Cro Marmot stared up at Pop as his ice cube, now mounted on a unicycle, headed for the exit. Other people began to move away, with the notable exceptions of Nutty, who was busy licking the gum off the bottom of the seats, and Flippy, who saluted Pop, but stayed where he was. Pop stared around him. Only the crazies wanted to help him. Meanwhile Truffles got to the door, put his trotter on the door and, with great difficulty (due to lacking opposable thumbs), began to twist the handle. He gave Pop a superior grin, throwing the door open an taking a step forwards. He collided with something, falling back onto the tiles. The figure who Truffles had walked into stepped into the room, his cane tapping against the ground in a strange, uneven rhythm. His light eyes surveying the assembled figures from behind dark sunglasses. He scanned the room again, and Pop saw his own surprised face reflected in the figures eyes. The man sniffed the air, listening for any sound in the dead silence of the room. He frowned, raising his staff and pointing it at Pop, simultaneously throwing his briefcase at the wall. Disco Bear, who had been just about to extract himself from the stuff, now saw the briefcase heading straight for his head. With a deft dance move he deflected it, gave a sigh of relief and then was promptly pelted with a massive variety of identical briefcases, that the newcomer had somehow managed to hide in his sleeve. The man in the sunglasses took a shaky step closer to Pop, and everyone present backed further into the room. This man was a danger to all around him. This man was bad news. This man... was The Mole.

The Mole gave a cough, stumble slightly to the left and then turned around, so that he was facing exactly ninety degrees away from Pop. That way he could hear what the bear was going to say. He regarded the crowd through dead eyes, and gave a quiet laugh. The crowd stared at him, dumbfounded. This was the first time anyone had ever heard him make any sound at all. And that voice was creepy. Really creepy. The Mole smiled slightly. He couldn't see, but he had a good idea of what was going on in front of him. He reached inside his coat, wrapping his hand around the handle of yet another identical briefcase. The Mole grinned, pulling out the case, clicking it open and taking out a small golden statue of what appeared to be a monkey.

"I've heard," The Mole began, causing everyone around him to back away still further. "That you know something about these idols." Pop rubbed the back of his head, taking a nervous step towards the man. The Mole didn't turn, he didn't even react. But he had heard Pop, and Pop knew that full well. He took another step towards the eerie figure and then began to talk.

"Why would you help me?" No answer. That was OK, he'd just have to try a different question. "How could you hear me from outside?" No answer. "What do you have to gain from the idols?" No answer. "Do you want to steal them?" No answer. "Do you work for a man by the name of Mr Tibbs?" Still nothing. All of these questions were starting to get on Pop's nerves. But maybe it wasn't that the man didn't want to answer. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe Pop was just the one asking the wrong question. God, Pop hated thinking like a clever man.

"Will you help me?" He asked. The Mole thought for a second, and slowly nodded his head. "Why?" Pop asked. The Mole shrugged. "Will they help me?" He pointed at the nervous crowd in the corner.

"I can find out..." The Mole chuckled.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I... do... not... own... H... T...F.

AN: punkangel208394: Oh I wish I could tell you that. But then again, if I did it would give away the story. And 'sides, I've already given you all enough hints.

**Chapter Five: Pop Idol**

The Mole straightened up, dropping the bulky board pen to the floor and taking a short step back to observe, through blind eyes, the wobbly line that he had drawn upon the ground. He turned to Pop and stared poignantly at him. Pop rubbed his chin and took a puff on his pipe.

"You got this idea from Battlestar Galactica right?" The Mole nodded, at the bear, who groaned slightly, "Of course."

"Everyone get on one side of the line," Pop growled gruffly, trying to put on the best military leader voice he could muster, "Those on the right are the ones who want to come and help us save a small innocent child. Those on the left are the snivelling cowards who want to let him die." There was a brief rustling as the present Tree Friends found their place. And then it stopped. On the right was Knutt Ahiro, Lumpy, Nutty, Flippy, Lammy and Cro Marmot. Just as Pop had expected then. All the crazies. The lunatics with nothing to lose, or too little common sense to do anything but what was expected of them. He grimaced. This was his team and he was just going to have to learn to live with it. He just hoped Cub would stay alive long enough for it to matter.

"OK," he began, "everyone on this side of the line come with me. You'll be my most trusted soldiers. My lieutenants, sergeants and corporals, so to speak, and thanks for your support in this. I really appreciate that. As for you, you, you creeps on the left..." Truffles gave a harsh laugh, it didn't matter what this Pop guy said or did, Truffles the pig had saved his bacon. Pun not intended.

"Get your asses up here," Pop drawled, "you're gonna be helping me anyway."

"What the hell?" Truffles exploded," storming up to the bear, "I thought you said that anyone on the left didn't have to do it!"

"No." Pop smiled slyly, pulling a gun out of his smoking jacket, "I said that anyone who didn't want to help should go and stand on the left. I never said you got to go home. Everyone's gotta fight, whether you wanna or not. 'Cos I'm not loosing my son. Not to Happy Tree Town, not to some psychopathic kitten. Not to nobody."

"You bought a g-g-gun?" Lammy whimpered from somewhere to the left of Pop. She looked down at Mr Pickles, who grinned up at her and winked.

"Crazy prepared. Go fig." Knutt groaned, rolling his eyes in a way designed to be as overly dramatic as possible.

The Mole gave a soft chuckle, this Pop guy knew what he was doing.

The little swine stared down wide-eyed at his stomach, where the gun rested.

"Y-y-you would-would-wouldn't d-dare!" Truffles stammered, well aware that he was literally looking down the barrel of a gun.

"I was in the army." Pop grimaced, "Try me." Truffles shivered, taking a step back and The Mole raised an eyebrow. Impressive...

Pop regarded the group, all of whom were staring at him suspiciously, sans two. The Mole nodded in approval and Flippy gave a short, savage laugh. His eyes bright green.

"Good call commander." Flippy laughed, and everyone, Pop included, took a step back.

"Y-y-y-," this time it was Pop who was stuttering, "You're eyes. They're green."

"So what?" Flippy laughed, "That's what 'appens in a war. He goes to sleep, the coward that is, an' I get to come out and play. 'Ow's this fer a plan? Me, Sneaky an' Kaboom go down to that enemy base an' smash 'em up, kill everything, back in time fer supper. I'm in a death-by-heavy-evisceration mood at the moment, what ya say, boss?" Pop flinched, it was weird to hear the man talk so freely to him about slaughter. Sure they had both been in war, and they had both come out the other side. But Pop wasn't a soldier, he was a war correspondent. A journalist. He had survived. But somehow, Flippy hadn't, not really. Pop groaned. Sneaky? Kaboom? They weren't anyone he knew. He didn't think that they lived round here. The other bear was obviously just remembering his past in the last war. Whichever war it was.

"Err... yeah..." Pop grinned sheepishly, trying to put on his best commander voice, "Change of plan's I'm afraid. Kaboom and Sneaky aren't coming." Flippy's face fell, that wasn't good, if he didn't distract the bear soon, Pop knew the situation was going to get ugly. And by ugly he meant bloody. Obviously.

"OK, kids," Pop began, "We split into three groups. First group is... uh," Pop raked his brains, who did he trust his kids life with... He paused. Wrong question. Who didn't he like? "Flippy, Knutt... Err..., the sheep girl, Lammy, isn't it and... The weird Disco Bear guy. You're team's gonna be called... err... the Team-That-Might-Actually-Survive-This. You take the left, draw as much attention as you can and don't stop fighting 'till everyone's dead. Second team is... Lumpy, Cro Marmot, Nutty and, the pig," he indicated Truffles, "You're gonna be Team Dead-Weight. OK, so that leaves me an' the Mole. Swell." He walked over to the doorway, casting a withering glare towards the civilians before disappearing through it. The others gulped and, aware that Flippy was watching them hungrily, followed suite.

...

Tibbs grinned like a Cheshire cat, stretching in his large chair and preening himself. To his left Splendont was smirking down at the guards as he filed his nails, and somewhere far below him he could hear the agonized screams of the captives as they were helped to another ear-rending rendition of show tunes about money. Tibbs purred contentedly, scratching the back of the seat, and was only moderately put out when he saw Handy barge through the door without knocking. The beaver was covered in a veil of glittering sweat and his eyes were dark and ringed.

"That should do it." Handy grinned, "Taken us hours but we finally uncovered some..." He trailed off, staring darkly at something that Splendont had in his hands. "What the hell is Pop an' Ma's kid doing here?" Tibbs grin widened yet more, and he slipped off his chair and stepped closer to Handy.

"My dear Handlich, this is simply a precaution." His grin widened, "You remember don't you, the Ancient and Greatly Honoured Society of Happy Home Owners." Handy growled, that wasn't good.

"You'd better not 'a' done anything to my friends."

"Perish the thought. Never. Crush my heart and hope to die (or something like that). Now, I believe you had something to show us." Tibbs motioned to a group of guards and, along with Splendont, the figures slunk after Handy, who slouched moodily over to the door and slammed it behind him with his foot.

"Now that isss what I call lying Tibsss." Ratskin grinned, his voice drifting up from the grates below Tibbs chair.

"Lying, what are you talking about?"

"Doesss 'Not done anything to my friendsss' ring a bell?" Ratskin hissed, rising up beneath Tibbs, until his grinning face pressed up against the grates.

"Heh. I think you'll find I kept my word." Tibbs chuckled, walking towards the door. "Handlich has no friends." He slammed the door behind him, following after Handy as fast as his short legs could carry him. Beneath the grates Ratskin's eeiry smirk widened. Tibbs was his sort of cat. Conniving, manipulative and small.

So very small.

Sure he thought he was big, and he had Ratskin holed up in this makeshift prison, but it wouldn't last. Ratskin wasn't like the rest of Tibbs minions. No weak willed wimp. No. He was different. He knew everything about those idol-things and Tibbsy didn't have a clue. The idol-things were special. They stopped the revenge of his enemies. The things that they might do if they came back at least. Stopped his feast. The idol-things helped him. Helped him live. Helped him sleep, move and eat. They helped him consume.

And he was so hungry.

So very hungry.

And they couldn't keep him here. It was impossible. Sure he was here now. But he wouldn't stay. Wouldn't be a captive. Never a slave. Never so weak. Soon he would be free. Yes, the snake would be free. And he would feast, he would rip his way into the world and then, even in these tunnels, the cat would not be safe from Ratskin's jaws. Not be able to hide. He may think he was powerful. But Tibbsy was small. And Ratskin was large. And fast. And poisonous. And hungry. So very hungry.

And Tibbsy would make an exquisite first course.

...

"What do you think you've found then." Splendont drawled as the men looked down into the murky depths of the jagged chasm on which they stood. The chasm stretched on for at least one hundred meters, and was crossed only by a thin rope bridge. Like in all the movies. Splendont chuckled. That same self superior smirk he always always had on his face. Handy growled, it made him want to hit the squirrel. But, then again, Splendont could probably kick his ass with his tongue. Literally. Sooo... maybe that wouldn't be the best idea.

"Statue." Handy grinned, gesturing to the large golden idol with the stump of his hand. "One of my better works if I didn't say so myself. And, it shows we're getting close."

"Close." Splendont frowned momentarily, he hated not knowing things. He was Splendont after all. A hero. He should know everything. "Close to what?"

"What?" Handy grinned, moving the stump of his arm so he could tap his nose. It didn't work. "The Dead Space."

"Dead Space?"

"Of course. Try to guess what it does. It's a real shocker." Splendont laughed, his disturbingly handsome face distorting horribly. He sneered around him at the soldiers and gave his signature thumbs-down salute. The men shifted uncomfortably, their forced grins wavering. Splendont thought he was a hero, everyone knew it, and no one _ever_ told him anything to the contrary. Handy shrugged at the men, and was about to comment on the amazing detail he had added to idol, when he heard a loud bang. The room shook violently, shaking a few loose stalactites off the ceiling and crushing a couple of dozen soldiers. Splendont recoiled, Handy shrugged, that was just what happened to people round here. There was a brief silence and the remaining guards straightened up, looking around expectantly. Splendont stood, frozen in place. As stone-faced as the statue far below them. Handy looked around himself for a moment. The world seemed to be going in slow-motion. Splendont was spinning on the spot, arms poised like a figure-skater. Guards dodged out of the way of falling rocks, looks of surprise and terror etched on their faces.

And then came the second bang.

A single soldier fell from the sharp edge of the chasm, twisting like a ragdoll as he fell into the pit. Splendont growled, lowering his hand and turning to the other soldiers.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Splendont roared, as the guards scurried away in the direction of the banging, "FIND OUT WHAT DID THAT!"

The soldiers scattered, and Handy thought it best to join them. He turned away and began to stomp away. He had only gone a few steps, however, when he was pulled back, his shoulder held in a vice like grip. Splendont smirked, letting go of Handy's shoulder.

"Now, come on." Splendont moaned, "I know you're name. I can't kill anyone who's name I know. Let alone send 'em to their death." He gave his thumbs-down salute again and grinned.

"Gee, thanks," Handy quipped, "It's so reassuring to think that the only thing keeping me alive is the fact you know my name." Splendont laughed.

"Yer know what," The squirrel chuckled, "I think I like you Handy." Handy smiled slightly. It felt good to be liked. In fact, he really rather enjoyed it. But, if this friendship were going to last any longer than a few more minutes, he would have to act carefully. Another few explosions shook the foundations of the caverns, and Handy shuffled closer to Splendont, casually hitting him in the shoulder in what could be easily be mistaken for a friendly fashion. The hero didn't even flinch. Interesting.

"So," Handy drawled, "I hear that Tibbs has a few new hostages."

"Yeah. Locals. What of it?"

"Why does Tibbs need them exactly?"

"Dunno. Somethin' called Experiment Zero that Tibbs been workin' on."

"Experiment Zero, eh?"

"Yeah." Splendont laughed, as gunshots sounded from further down the corridor. Splendont's ears pricked up. "Hey, tell you what, I'll talk about it once the killing stops."

And with that both men turned and set off across the thin, stone bridge.

...

Several hours earlier, the residents of Happy Tree Town were getting closer to the caves. Walking in military fashion down an old dis-used forest path. It had been hours since they'd set off, and things were getting grim. It wasn't normally this long to get to the mountains. But that was just how Happy Tree Town was. You didn't use a road for a while, sooner or later the road forgot that it existed. Pop sighed holding the phone in his hand. One of these new cell phone things. Big and bulky thing, but still a great improvement on the old design. Portable phones. Who'd 'a' thunk it? He lifted it, and was about to continue when The Mole tapped him with his cane.

"What's that bleeping?" The Mole asked.

"Phoning someone." The Mole raised an eyebrow and Pop sighed. "Ever been in war, square? No. Me neither. I mean, Journalism's pretty good, but I never actually fought in anything. Didn't do my bit. It was my job to just tell everyone what was going on. Real useless job."

"So why do it?" Knutt asked. "Why not be the hero. It's great! You get to save the day, and get the girl, and meet loads of interesting people."

"Ha." Pop laughed mirthlessly, "I didn't say that I didn't get to meet people. As a matter of fact I met one particularly interesting guy out on a trip to some monastery out east. This guy was keeping our injured. Nursing them back to health. Said we needed all the help we could get. Up against this, Dark One fella or something. Real swell guy he was, real handy."

"Is that who you're trying to get in touch with now then?" Lumpy asked slowly.

"Yeah." Pop lifted the phone to his ear, continuing his call.

"I'm sorry," The voice muttered, not used to the language, "I can not help. To fight, it is, how you say, against my moral code."

"What can you do?"

"I cannot fight. Besides, I am too far from you."

"But can you help me."

"No. I cannot fight... But I can offer spiritual guidance. To help you through these difficult times. Console you for your loss."

"But..."

"I cannot."

"But..." Pop thought for a second. What could he say. "I'm not Buddhist." Pathetic really. A terrible answer. But what else could he say. On the other side of the phone, the speaker paused.

"Then it..." The speaker cut off, and a large explosion could be heard at the other end of the phone. The citizens behind them shouted and battled forwards as a strong wind whipped up, pulling the leaves through the air infront of the procession. Pop gripped his hat, and The Mole gasped, sweeping into a tree. The foliage skipped and lept, twisting and diving into the shape of three people. A monkey and two panda, one of whom clung to the others back. The monkey smiled, bowing slightly and stepping forwards. The Buddhist Monkey coughed slightly, and began to speak.

"...Is a different matter entirely."

...

Despite the obvious muttered disgruntlements, most of the town's folk were doing surprisingly well. Nutty was astoundingly swift, already cackling about a mile ahead of the rest of the group and looking for candy fairies, and hopefully, their hidden stash. Knutt too, while mild-mannered, was managing to jog at the front with ease, and Flippy. Well... Flippy seemed to have disappeared entirely. At the rear of the procession, Lammy looked around her, spotting Truffles over to her left. She smiled slightly. It wasn't that surprising that the pig was fast falling behind, considering that Pop had given him the unenviable task of lugging Cro-Marmot around, as Giggles, the person who was usually best at getting the cave-marmot to stop being lazy and start moving, was nowhere to be found. On her other side, Disco Bear gasped for breath and gave a breathless growl in her general direction. She backed away slightly from the sweaty bear. Obviously walking wasn't his specialty. It might have been something to do with that massive radio he was lugging around behind him, though. Lammy suddenly tripped, gasping in pain as another savage stitch twinged through her side. She wasn't used to walking nearly so fast. She panted for breath, gritting her teeth as she held her side and pressed grimly on, but it did next to no good. She fell this time, pulling herself up with a baa and starting to jog slightly, trying to catch up with the crowd of people getting further and further away. She soon lost her energy, however, dropping onto her hands and knees, and gasping for breath, bleating for the town's people to wait for her.

They didn't hear her, too preoccupied with their own miserable grumblings. She shouted again, and again, as their torches disappeared over the hill and left her in the dark. She whimpered as the shadows of the forest fell over her, shivering against the cold as she crawled after them, trying to stand again and again, but her legs simply collapsed uselessly under her. She fell to the ground, gasping and coughing, and crying breathlessly for help. Something stabbed her in the side and she cried out. Screaming for help. Her bleating filled the silent night, scaring a few birds off their perches.

"Now, now. Big girls don't cry, do they?" A snipped voice addressed her from a nearby tree. "Haven't you ever heard of the little lamb who cried wolf? What would your mother think?" Lammy gasped, rubbing her red eyes and looking up towards the figure. Mr Pickles tipped his hat to her, straightening up off the tree, and walking so that he stood over her.

"M-M-Mr Pickles," She sniffled, sobbing uncontrollably as she tried to get up, "Pleaaase help me!" The pickle smiled softly at her, put his finger to his mouth and gently shushed her.

"Shhh," he whispered, "Do you want a wolf to find us? Young ladies don't need help, do they? Can't you help yourself for once? What would your mother think?" Lammy's vision blurred, and she noticed that there was a knife lying near her, and a stick lodged through her foot. She was...

"Bleeding are you? Beaten by a silly little twig?" The pickle smiled sadly at her, stroking his moustache. "Why don't you take the twig out? Don't you need to catch up with your friends? What would your mother think?"

Lammy's jumper was soaking wet now, heavy with tears. And rain. It had started raining. She hadn't noticed before. Her jumper was heavy now and it clung to her skin, weighing her down so that she could hardly move. And there was something else. Her hand. Her hand had a twig sticking through it. That had only just happened. And Mr Pickles was grinning now. And she was bleeding. And she was the one holding the twig. She screamed.

"Twig through your hand?" The pickle grinned, his soft vaguely French accent skipping across the words as though he were spreading melted butter, "Bad luck, isn't it? Guess you can't go after your friends after all, can you? But won't you die horribly out here?" He tutted, "What would your mother think?" He reached for the knife, and Lammy backed up, scrabbling desperately over hard ground as she tried to escape.

"Can't you see that I'm just trying to help?" Mr Pickles lamented, "Can't you see how much better a quick easy death would be? What would your mother think, hmm?" Lammy gave a bleat of terror. As Pickles raised his knife. A flash in the moonlight, and the knife that Mr Pickles held flew down. Lammy grabbed it's handle as the face of their attacker loomed out at them. Heavy metal blade in hand. The girl's free hand struck out, blocking blows and swiping frantically at her attacker, who laughed savagely. She shrieked as he grabbed her by the jumper, pulling her up, dislodging the sticks, and throwing her against a tree. Her vision swam with blood and tears, and red saliva spewed from her mouth as she tumbled down onto a high branch in a shower of blood. Mr Pickles laughed slightly, an I-told-you-so look drawn on his face. Taking the knife again and heading towards the figure, she sprang from the tree she had landed in. Towards the pickle. She landed hard. Blood dribbling from her nose, and lost consciousness. Tears filled her vision. She was going to die.

Flippy grinned. Taking a step towards the battered and broken girl. Someone had got her before him. Shame. He sniffed the air. Didn't smell like Kaboom had been here, and it wasn't Sneaky. It was too clean. Didn't seem to have been a struggle either.

Had the girl done it to herself. He shook, his eyes turning back to their normal black. This scared The Soldier. Why would someone compromise themselves. Destroy their own chances of survival. Flippy bent down towards the girl, picking her gently from the floor and throwing her over his shoulder. He picked up the pickle as well, just because, before disappearing back into the undergrowth.

And in her dreams, the girl wept.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: _I steal disclaimers now. Disclaimers are cool._

A/N: Thanks all for the reviews of both this, and my brother's work. I am glad you are enjoying the story and am enjoying reading your comments.

**Chapter Six: Breaking out is hard to do**

Lammy gasped in pain. She felt terrible, like someone had fed her drawing pins an hour ago and she was only now trying to cough them back up again. She was freezing, soaking wet woolen jumper dragging her down, clinging to her bones. Turning them to ice. Something was smashing into her chest with a sound like a hammer hitting stone. She tried to roll out the way of the blows, for fear that such powerful hits might force her ribs out of her body, but she couldn't. Obviously she needed to open her eyes first. There was a weight on her face, and a harsh breathing filled her ears. Her own. Her eyes opened blearily to see, green. Fuzzy green blobs. A tickley sort of fuzzy, making her nose twitch. Making her want to sneeze. Green swimming blobs, gently moving, with a smaller pink blob in the middle, pressed up against her face. Some sort of creature. Something she should be afraid of. A bear. Floppy? No? No! Not Floppy. Different? Disco Bear? No. Not that different. More similar. Flippy. Ah, yeah that was it. FLIPPY!

She sat bolt upright, knocking the bear off of her as she gasped for breath. Flippy groaned, his head smacking against a tree with a dull thunk. Lammy gave a squeak, rushing over to him to see if he was alright. That's what mother would have wanted her to do. Right? He grinned at her, leaping to his feet as she collapsed again, wracked with pain. Coughing up blood.

"It worked! I can't believe that CPR was finally worth the weeks health and safety training!"

"You've done thaaat before?" Lammy gasped, amazed that someone could be so bad at something after practice, "Didn't it ever work baaack then?"

"Nah," Flippy grinned, "Mostly just sucked out their gold fillings. Last guy I tried it on exploded." He gave a short and mirth-filled laugh, before grabbing the girl and pinning her to the wall. "So, kid. You one of those new female recruits us guys are always being told about, or are you one of the southern side? 'Cos, far as I can tell, you don't look like neither." Lammy winced, blood trickling down the side of her mouth. She stared into his eyes, wincing, her eyes filling with tears. Flippy shivered, his own eyes softening and he backed away, letting her slump to the floor.

"Nah." Flippy groaned, "I still can't do it. I can't just kill some kid, no matter how likely it may be that you're on _their_ side." He looked up, "Rain's clearing up soldier. Ha. Kaboom won't kill a kid either. Don't think Sneaky would. I guess. Maybe he could kill ya, The Soldier, y'know, but I don't think he's gonna be coming out for a while. What with the scare you gave him. Near killing yourself." He stopped for a second, looking down at the sniveling girl. "You okay kid?" He knelt down, taking her by the shoulders and lifting her to her feet. She winced as he touched her wound.

"You're a mess." he gave a sympathetic smile, brushing a stray hair out of her eye and ran an eye over her face, which was battered and covered in bloody gashes.

"I'm aaall wet." Lammy sniffed and Flippy smiled, passing her a roll of bandages.

"Just put that on your wounds." The lamb blushed. "Oh yeah, right. Well, take this too, I guess." He threw a heavy brown towel at the girl and dropped some sort of green uniform on the floor, the former landed on her, covering her face.

"Th-Thaaank you."

"Ha. You kinda remind of a porcupine friend of mine. Well, I'll be on the other side of the bushes if you need me. Just scream, an' I'll come running. Got that ki- ah what the heck. Got that soldier?"

"Y-yes s-sir."

"I can't hear you." Flippy chuckled, putting on his best Major voice.

"Y-Yes sir!"

"Ha. Kids." Flippy pushed through the bushes. Having a kid around really took the pressure off the war. Made it feel like he was at home, even when he wasn't. Lammy watched him through the bushes as he began to set up camp, muttered something about getting back to the general, and pulled four cans of food out of a cool box. She ducked back into the bushes, blushing slightly and began to change into the clothes the bear had given her.

"Like him, do you? Do you really think that's right? He's a murderous soldier isn't he? What would your mother think?"

"Whaaat?" Lammy choked, stunned, as the top hat adorned pickle jumped off the branch of a nearby tree. "N-no. It's not like thaaat!"

"Really? Do you think I'm that stupid? Are you blushing? What would your mother think?"

"B-but, he saved me. A-a-aaand, he is kindaaa cute."

"Cute? He's a murderer, isn't he? And you're just some kid, right? Do you really think you have a chance? Any chance at all? Uhh, what would your mother think?"

"I-I caaan't aaanswer aaall of these questions."

"Why? Is it because you're weak? Do you want the bear to think you're weak? Do you want anyone to think you're weak?" Lammy winced as Mr Pickles stepped forwards, brandishing his knife angrily, "WELL? WHAT WOULD YOUR MOTHER THINK?"

...

"SIR! SIR!"

Pop grimaced, stretching as he woke up, it had been one hell of a long day. Looking around him he could see his lieutenants, most of whom had also been sleeping. Pop looked up at the tree friend who had called him. A small freckled otter. Next to him, Splendid, Lumpy and the Buddhist Monkey pulled themselves out of their beds, yawning and stretching. The Mole was still asleep and Cro-Marmot hadn't fallen asleep to begin with. Pop rubbed his eyes.

"What is it?"

"I think we might have found that secret entrance you were talking about." Pop smiled, pulling himself to his feet and, ushering to his lieutenants to let them know that they could go back to sleep, much to their joint relief. Pop yawned, stepping outside into the early morning light. Four hours, they'd been camped out here. They'd better have found something. He looked around, a few recruits were milling about and he was mildly aware that the Buddhist Monkey had fallen in behind him.

"What about the little lamb." he asked.

"Hasn't turned up yet," the otter admitted, "Far as I can tell, she's dead. Probably killed herself by now." Pop glared at her. "Sorry."

They pushed past a couple of trees and into a clearing. This place was more lively, with a few more troops and two bears at the end, standing on a pile of rocks. Pop headed over to the two, staring at what appeared to be a large radio, which the one of the bears was tinkering with.

"What the heck is that?"

"This?" the bear gave him a grin, winking, "This is DB's Boom-box baby! All DB needs to do is press that button there and this whole secret entrance of yours'll be blown sky high, baby. Ohhh yeaaah!" Pop groaned, this poser. He just didn't get it. That whole thing had taken Handy months to build, he couldn't just go and...

"Blow it up then." Pop muttered, turning away. Disco Bear gave a whoop and an "Oh Yeah!" and watched as Pop scurried away.

"Err, Mr Pop!" Pop turned, it was the panda, that girl who Buddhist Monkey had bought with him, "Err, what to you want me to do?"

"What can you do? Can you use a gun?" Buddhist Monkey gave a laugh.

"She is a lay woman. It is not legal for her to use a gun in our culture."

"Well can she heal the wounded?"

"She is not a capable medic."

"Can she fight the enemy off with a stick or something?"

"I would not count on it Bear-san."

"Then why the heck did you bring her?"

"I thought you might like her. You know. You have been single for a long time, no?" Pop rolled his eyes, and marched away from the confused panda and the grinning monkey.

"Why is everyone I meet trying to pair me up with everybody I meet?"

...

"Okay, okay, lets try this again and, this time, try slowing down a bit."

"Yeah, yeah OK," Sniffles (err) sniffed. He hated having to repeat himself but, heck, as long as she was listening to him the screwy girl they'd tied to him couldn't attempt to clean him into oblivion, right? "I need you..."

"Uh huh..."

"To... reach..."

"Yeah..."

"Into..."

"Get on with it..."

"My pocket and retrieve an invention of mine on which I have been working. The invention in question is an elixir, which can be found in the form of a dart and also acts as a dual purpose sedative and a pseudo animadverto (Also it makes a lovely hair conditioner). Ergo said elixir will cause the target to instantly succumb to my will and thus force them to carry out any actions of which I instruct them to. That is the reason I invented it as, in actual fact it would be pointless to create such a device if one never intended to use it to, say, frame one of you for murder. Eheh heh heh..." He trailed off. Petunia stared at him, twitching slightly before returning to clean the floors with her feet. The other figures in the room stared at Sniffles for several seconds, mouths agape. He smiled widely, gave a small nod and gave a short laugh.

"Quid pro quo?" Sniffles ventured.

Toothy rolled his eyes, stretching slowly towards the anteater, much to the complaints of the weaker porcupine, who was slowly being pulled into the ground by every movement the small beaver made. Sniffles opened his mouth to say something, promptly biting his tongue when Toothy slammed his head into the forehead of the former.

"Shut up." Toothy glared.

Sniffles whined, trying to reach up to to his head to touch the forming bruise, but in turn sending Petunia spinning across the varnished floor and slamming her into the hard granite wall.

Petunia groaned, pulling back from the wall before giving a squeak and instantly beginning to scrub away at the blood that had splattered upon the wall. Toothy rolled his eyes, that girl was off her rocker. Worse than the rest of the group by about half a mile. She was going to be absolutely no help in this.

"In English?"

"I believed I was discoursing in..." Toothy head-butted him again, "Yes, yes you've made your..." Another head-butt, "I need the dart in my pocket to get us out of here." Toothy nodded. Little Miss Blue was, once again, gonna be no help. He rolled his eyes again. Guess was up to him. The hero. Splendid. He lent forwards and attempted to grab the pocket with his teeth. Straining horribly, eyes screwed up in pain and concentration as his arms were wrenched behind his back. This felt bad, all of those deaths always started like this. His arms would probably snap off or something. Or he'd end up biting off the anteater's nose. Or _that_ struggling moron behind him was going to be pulled through the metal bar below them. Or... or... It was best not to think about what might happen. Or what could happen. Best to stay sane. To remember what would happen. The inevitable. They would escape and he, yes, finally, after years of neglect. He would no longer be a backing character in his own life, but a star, a hero, **the main event**. He grinned to himself and doubled his efforts to grab the key. Behind him, the small porcupine gave a whimper, struggling violently, albeit ineffectively. Toothy winced as the girl's spine's scratched grooves into his back. He pulled back, giving himself time to recover from his injuries before ducking back towards Sniffles. Toothy gave a gasp as one of Flaky's spines hit him in the back. He growled, clenching his teeth around the dart and pulling his head back. It was at that point that the squirming porcupine was thrown from her feet, flying through the air and landing directly on Toothy. Next to Toothy, Cuddles looked round in horror. Shifty grinned, putting his hand back in his pocket.

"Ya know," Shifty began, "I been thinkin'. We've been being too light on you until recently, huh?"

"You don't mean?" Giggles gasped, her face darkening in horror. This was exactly how he had started the first time.

"'Fraid so." Shifty grinned, "We need something really bad. So amazingly shocking, that ya won't be able to escape, 'cos ya too busy cryin'."

"No."

"Yep. Somethin' worse than thumbscrews..."

"No, no."

"...Worse than an electric chair..."

"No, no, no..."

"...Worse than sittin' on a pin cushion..."

"You can't!"

"...That's right! I'm talkin' about..." Shifty paused, grinning around him at his shivering captives. A hand fell on his shoulder and the raccoon stared round at his brother.

"You have to say somethin' Shift'" Shifty bristled, smacking him round the chops and sending him sprawling across the floor. He smirked, sniffing the air contemptuously before pulling a walking stick out of... somewhere. He ran forwards, taking big leaping steps as he bounded towards the center of the cell. He stopped, slightly elevated, on top of Cuddles' face and threw up his hand's theatrically.

"MUSICAL THEEEAAATER!"

Lifty & Shifty's Horrifyingly Bad Musical Theater Tune of DOOOM!

_(To be sung depressingly off-key. Bonus points for a husky voice or feigning a British accent)_

"_I say brother have you heard"_

"_Why yes, I'm looking for the word,_

_All that value people put on their possessions."_

"_By jove they do."_

"_Why yes it's true."_

"_But when it comes to me and you,_

_I believe we have to make a small confession."_

"_You see we're civil malcontents."_

"_We've plundered you, of every cent."_

"_But we will rush to you're defence."_

"_If you can pay us off." ("Hey that's my line!")_

The prisoners screamed, writhing around on the ground as the mismatched chords of the brothers' crooning defiled their ears. Giggles hicoughed back tears as she tried to cover her ears, pulling Cuddles arms behind him, and causing the yellow rabbit to give a muffled squeak of pain. Giggles looked sympathetically at him and dropped her hand back down to her side, releasing his. Obviously she couldn't do anything about that horrible noise the brothers were making. They'd certainly thought this out. She screwed up her eyes and tried to ignore the sound of the brothers, who had now changed tune.

"_I like dollars"_

"_I like mullah."_

"_I like pancakes, _(Kick) _"OW"_

"_I just can't get enough."_

Bundled up in the corner, Flaky squirmed, trying to ignore the complaints of the trapped beaver beneath her as she attempted to roll herself into as small a ball as possible. She looked over at the small bunny whose face was currently being stood on. Her friend. Or rather, the closest thing she had. She had known it wasn't a good idea to come. She may well have said as much, but she hadn't, or had she. Flaky groaned, she must have been dying to much recently. It had a tendency of doing that kind of stuff to you. She tried to roll over, and was surprised when she felt something brush off of her nose, and roll down her back. She gave a squeak, her eyes slowly turning around in her head to stare at the small metal cylinder that had become caught in between two of her spines. She gave a whimper, that must be that dart that Sniffles had been talking about. She reached back her leg, kicking the dart slightly to dislodge it from her spines, and watching it as it bounced across the floor away from her. She then turned back to Sniffles, slamming a few more puncture holes into Toothy- who had long since decided that today was not his lucky day- and inclined her head towards him.

"Sniffles."

"Yeah," The anteater smiled at her, and she nodded in the direction of the dart. Snffles saw it, and his eyes lit up. "Ah don't worry about that. I've got it." His tongue snaked across the ground, scooping up the dart and sucking it into his mouth. "There." Toothy glared at him, eyes ablaze as he pushed the stunned porcupine off of him.

"WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU DO THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?"

"Would you believe it slipped my mind?"

"_That's just plain stupid, I think you'll find."_

"_It's needless for us to remind._

_That you're our prisoners."_

Sniffles said something, but Flaky couldn't hear it, there was too much blood in her ears. At least she couldn't hear those idiotic raccoon's incorporating whatever Sniffles into their next verse. Sniffles grinned and indicated to the dart in his mouth, before indicating towards a large lobster-looking creature over in the corner. Maybe some sort of shrimp. The anteater gave a grin, spitting the dart out of his mouth with a considerable force, and sending it straight into the lobster-thing's back. The creature turned, scratching it's sore back, before swinging round and clocking both raccoons across the face, inciting cheers from the team, and an even bigger gasp of relief from Cuddles, as the raccoon fell off of him. Sniffles shouted victoriously, before turning to the lobster-thing and addressing it.

"Good. Now my minion, break our chains so that we may escape!" The creature stared at him for second and blinked. It's feeder tendrils whipped into what could be best described as a badly formed heart, and it pounced on him. Pressing it's tendrils up against his face and slobbering all over him.

"A LOVE POTION?" Toothy roared, "I GOT CRUSHED FOR A LOVE POTION? YOU'RE STUPID DART DIDN'T WORK!" Sniffles groaned, raising his hand to correct him.

"Firstly, yes. Yes you did get crushed for a "Love Potion" as you call it. Secondly, technically, while the elixir did not quite fulfill its intended purpose it was in fact still effective. As animadvertus essentially means 'to turn one's mind', which it did. Though not in the way I may have hoped and thirdly OH GOD! WHY DIDN'T I USE THAT ON A GIRL?" There was a brief silence, broken only by the relentless scrubbing of Petunia as she vainly attempted to remove the blood from her ears. The lobster-thing groaned, smacking with his fist and knocking her up against the head. Petunia gave a squeak and fell to the floor, as though she were dead. It gave a gurgle, turning away from the unconscious girl, and back towards Sniffles. It spoke, it's hissing voice filling the room.

"I am a girl."

There was a brief pause.

And then Sniffles screamed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chuck Norris allows this Disclaimer to live:**I don't own HTF.

**Chapter Seven: My Captives and Other Animals**

At the back of the prison cell, Russel stood and stretched. It had worked, he couldn't believe it had actually worked. Being ignored all the time was finally paying off for him. He sniffed contemptuously, those raccoons sure were stupid. Tying Russel up with ropes? Yeah, big mistake. He'd cut his hands free with his hook ages ago and those leg cuffs. What legs? Russel's grin widened into a massive, almost face splitting smile and he tossed his head back, laughing heartily. A real pirate laugh.

"Yar har har!" Russel roared, clutching his belly and tipping his head back, finally drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Well, except for Sniffles and Petunia, who were either too busy fending off a love-struck lobster or cleaning the floor. Russel beamed at them, enjoying there eyes upon him. So this is why Toothy was always acting like that.

"Well me hearties," Russel began, putting on his best I'm-a-pirate voice, "Who wants to be free?" The other children cheered, and Mime nodded vigorously, still struggling with ropes. Russel looked down at the little deer by his feet. "You were tied to me."

The deer nodded.

"I cut the ropes."

The deer gazed at him expectantly and Russel face palmed, before shrugging and cutting Mime free of his self-perceived ropes. The little deer jumped to his feet, before promptly turning and heading towards the skunk. He grabbed her ropes, wrenching and pulling at them with his hands, straining as the ropes dug into his skin. Meanwhile Russel walked calmly around the room, cutting the ropes of Cuddles and Giggles with his hook, before unlocking the chains that bound Toothy and Flaky with an improvised tool, a clever mix of one of Flaky's spines, a match, and a couple too many pounds of gunpowder. Toothy blinked, rubbing soot out of his eyes.

"Yeah. Thanks. I really needed that." Russel smiled at him and shrugged apologetically. Toothy smacked him round the head before glaring around the room. Cuddles and Giggles were over at the door of the cell block, trying to force it open, but to no avail. There wasn't anything on the bodies of the guards either. Code lock, go fig.

"Doesn't it just take your breath away." Giggles wondered to Cuddles as they both tried to pull open the lock.

"Y-yeah," Cuddles groaned, putting a foot on the wall and straining, "Pulling this door is really hard work."

"No, not that," the chipmunk face palmed, "I'm talking about this whole cell. I mean, come on, these guys can't of been in Happy Tree Town more than a week, and they've already built a concrete cell bunker." Cuddles stopped pulling, stared at her for a minute, and blinked.

"Wow." Cuddles took a step back, "That's some work-ethic."

"Really makes you think, doesn't it?"

"No." Toothy rolled his eyes and stepped forwards, shoving passed the two dumbfounded critters and growled, wrenching at the door, with decidedly less effect than Cuddles and Giggles had had on it. He growled, gritting his teeth and straining. Sure this was Happy Tree Town and doing that was probably going to rip his arm off or something, but, hell, someone had to play the hero. He closed his eyes, grinding his teeth together as he tore at the door.

"Evenin' gents." Someone said from behind him, "Looks like you lads are in a spot of bother." Toothy turned, glaring around him to see who had spoken. "Who said that?" he demanded "You trying to scare us or something? Cos it's not working!"

"Blimey," the voice chattered, as the speaker jumped onto Toothy's nose, "Put a sock in it. No need to be an arse about it ya sad duffer."

Toothy shuddered, his eyes crossing as he stared at the speaker. A tiny ant, no more than a couple of centimeters tall (which, incidentally made it a giant by ant standards) in an expensive looking frilly pink dress. It grinned up at him, repositioning its bonnet and batting its eyelashes at the beaver. It took in the dumbfounded look with a sort of wondering pleasure as it tried to hide a large pin behind its back, or at least pretend it was a parasol.

"What."

"What? What? What do ya mean what?" The ant squeaked, taking a step towards Toothy's eye and brandishing it's pin wickedly, "Ya tramp. Why I oughta, I oughta box ya ears, I oughta give ya a knuckle sandwich, oughta kick ya in the joules. Arggh." The creature swept it's weapon up, carving at the flesh on Toothy's nose. The beaver gasped in pain, and the ant gave a shriek as a hook ripped her off the other boy and hung her high above the ground. Russel gave a whoop of victory and Toothy bristled, taking a step towards the creature.

"Are all English people this annoying?" Toothy groaned.

"English. ENGLISH! What the bloody hell makes ya think I'm English, ya berk," The ant squeaked, punching and kicking at the larger creatures around her, "What the hell is England anyway. Never 'eard a no England round 'ere. I'm Tree Town born and bred, me. Name's Harriette Persephone Fiona Willamina Felecia Cruella Antimyer III, but you can call me Ari. Ari the ant. Ain't anything English about that name!"

"So, why the English accent then?" Cuddles asked, raising an eyebrow .

"Clean out ya ears ya gormless nancy boy, like I said, I ain't no Limey, I'm just evil is all." Ari fluffed her hair and pouted. "Now, way I 'ear it, you fellas are in a right jam, eh? Need some 'elp from little old me." Toothy laughed.

"If you think you can open that door feel free. I'd like to see you try."

"Cor blimey, you been trying t' pull the bleeding thing?" Ari tittered, "Well, best a British t' ya then, eh? I'll just be clearing off now an' leaving ya to it, eh? But," She paused, batting her eyelashes at the beaver and giggled like a schoolgirl, "Then again. Let's just suppose that a certain someone just happened to 'ear them two Bobbies, ya know, them raccoon blokes, come in 'ere a couple of hours back. Watched 'em through the wall fer a while, just 'cos I was bored an' all, an' what do I see? Only the code to the bleeding door!"

The children's eyes lit up and they cheered. Mime, who had been gradually wearing away at the ropes binding Sniffles and Petunia with his buck teeth, finally snapped them, releasing the two trapped critters. He fell back in shock, tumbling across the floor. Petunia pulled herself up, scurrying across the floor towards him and helping the dirt smeared deer to his feet. She opened her mouth to thank him, and caught sight of the filth.

"Oh, look at you." Petunia rolled her eyes, shaking a bottle of cleaning solution that had somehow appeared in her hand, and sprayed Mime in the face. The deer fell back against the wall under a bombardment of blows from Petunia's scourer.

"I'm just trying to help!" Petunia called out as she swiped at Mime, who was vainly attempting to escape. Now free, the final member of the captives, Sniffles, pulled himself to his feet and hurried over to the others to see what all the fuss was about. The ant grinned savagely upon seeing the anteater, and Sniffles recoiled.

"YOU!" Sniffles squealed, marching towards the tiny creature sitting on Russel's hook in what he obviously thought was a menacing manner, but actually made him look like he was in pain.

"Buggy!" Ari's eyes lit up and her grin widened, "What a jammy fluke. Say, 'ow'd ya like a door opened, eh?" Sniffles was about to speak when Toothy cut across him.

"You can do that?" The Beaver asked.

"Sure, sure. It'll be a doddle, easy-peasy, Bob's your uncle an' all 'at." Toothy stared at her.

"Who's Buggy?" It was Giggles who had said it this time. Ari stared at the chipmunk for a second, pouted, clenched her fists, then burst out laughing.

"Buggy's Buggy." Ari laughed, rolling about on the floor, Sniffles glared at her, "Ya know, the off-colour anteater. Call 'im Buggy cos a 'em specks, see, make 'im look all bug eyed. Like a bug." She rolled her eyes back in her head, regaining composure, before hopping to her feet and climbing the door onto the lock. "'Ave this off in a jiffy," she giggled, "'course, that's considering you can pay an' all."

"Pay?" Giggles shrieked, taking a step towards the ant and tripping over the struggling form of Mime, who was still being cleaned, in the process "But we haven't got any money!"

"I ain't in this for a couple a bob ya div," Ari smirked, giving her best I'm-a-good-girl-me smile, "All I ask for is twenty minutes with Buggy. Alone. An' with a stapler." Sniffles recoiled and the other kids looked at each other apprehensively.

"OK." Toothy shrugged. Sniffles screamed and Toothy turned to look at him. "What? It's just a stapler." Ari and Sniffles gave simultaneous, sarcastic laugh and, in an instant, Ari had cracked the lock.

The next few events happened very quickly, somewhat expectedly and with such a horrible sense of cliché and deus ex machina that it would make the writers of Yugioh and Pokemon blush. Firstly Petunia, who had, until that moment, been scrubbing away at a caked on speck of dirt in Mime's hair, slipped on a patch of suds on the floor, sending the sponge that she had pulled out of nowhere high into the air. At the same time Toothy pulled the door open a crack, setting Ari off balance and knocking the pin out of her hand. The sponge flew through the air and the tinniest droplet of water knocked her off the edge, causing her to flip off the door and land directly on the sponge.

"Wow, that could 'a' gone a bit pear shaped, eh?" Ari giggled as one of the larger figures bent down to pick her up, "Ah well, Sod's law an' all, eh?" She gave another little giggle and stared up at the boy bending down to her. A Blue anteater. With a devilish grin on his face.

"Ah bugger." The little ant gasped, attempting to stop her manic giggling. Sniffles tongue whipped out, and everything went black.

...

"Hey kid, do you ever get the feeling that, hey, maybe we're just wasting our time out here and nothing's gonna happen?"

"Err, yeah. Sometimes. Why?"  
"Ah, no reason. Just, DB gets that a lot." The orange bear shrugged, turning and walking over to the large hole that they'd made in the wall. He span around, posing comically at the entrance and pointing at the Panda. The only 'single' girl on the trip. "Ya know what I'm talking about beautiful."

Further down the hole, Nutty gave a laugh. "Aw come on. Let me go down. Pleeeease. Pwetty please. I'll be good. I promise." DB groaned, looking down at the squirrel. That dude was cramping his style. The squirrel stopped, sniffing the air, and his giggling stopped, "I smell candy." He scurried up and down between the tunnel entrance and where Disco Bear was standing.

"Count DB out of that." the bear grinned, leaning back. Nutty pouted.

"Aw come on your no fun. See, that means you ain't candy. Cos candy's fun. Candy's candies. And candies are even more fun. And since your one, you can't be candy because..." He stopped, sniffing the air again and turning to the Panda Mom, stretching towards her baby, "Say, little guy, wanna come find some..." Panda recoiled, slapping him round the face and growling. Forcing him away from the baby. "Aw, you ain't no candy either. I'll just go find that fun myself, huh." Nutty turned and stalked away, eyes spinning, he slammed into the wall, and passed out, giggling stupidly.

"Hey guys." Lumpy began, "Any of you seen Cuddles or Giggles anywhere?"

"Ha. No" Truffles put out his tongue, matching the state of his back, due to carrying Cro, perfectly.

"How about Toothy?" Lumpy wondered aloud, "I like Toothy, he's a real nice guy. Real nice. Always gives great advice."

"DB seems to remember he was telling you to go suck on a cabbage." The bear, reminisced, tinkering with a huge radio that was lying on the ground.

"But, but, what if they been kidnapped DB?" Lumpy bellowed suddenly, "What if the reason I ain't seen none of 'em for a couple of days is cos some moon man or, or some stupid homicidal kitten kidnapped them for as of yet unknown reasons?"

"You are not serious, are you?" The panda moaned. Why was she stuck with the loonies. This stupid moose and the squirrel, rather than her wise teacher, or the bear in charge. She blushed. The other bear was OK she supposed, when he wasn't tinkering with that radio.

"What are you doing?" Panda asked, leaning over the bear and holding out the baby so it could see.

"DB's glad you asked that, beautiful," The bear turned, "See, it's like this. You guys all think DB is such a two dimensional character. All he's got is Disco right? Wrong. See, couple of years back, I heard chicks dig nerdy guys. Now I was like, straight A's in college, right, so I went down to the library, and I met this guy named Sniffles. An' he got me into radio communication, see. So I could be hip with the ladies. An' now I know I ain't two dimensional. I'm one dimensional." The baby giggled, but everyone else just stared at DB. "Ah it'd be funny if you understood complex..." No, they weren't staring at him. They were staring past him. And backing away. He got up, staring at them from beneath star-framed shades. "Hey now, what you all staring a..." Something hit Disco Bear hard on the back of the head and he collapsed, unconscious

...

"Hey kid, do you ever get the feeling that, hey, maybe we're just wasting our time out here and nothing's gonna happen?"

"Err, yeah. Sometimes. Why?"  
"Ah, no reason. Just, DB gets that a lot."

Up in the trees Flippy sniffed, swigging a few pills before turning to the girl next to him and loading his gun.

"You see those guys down there?" Flippy asked, "Well, this is what we're here to beat, and those guys are the enemy." Lammy whimpered, that was Disco Bear and Lumpy and Truffles. She knew these people. Flippy knew these people. They weren't the enemy.

"Th-they're..."

"They are the enemy!" Flippy shouted, eyes flashing dangerously green. "This is enemy base, they're guarding it, they're armed and do you see our uniform on any of them. It's the enemy alright." He threw a gun in Lammy's direction before waiting to give her time to pick it up after she dropped it, "Your my backup. If anything happens to me down there... shoot... I don't care who you hit just shoot. Got that." Lammy looked down at the gun in her hands. It was massive, at least two times as big as it had any right to be and so heavy that she had to prop it on the ground. The gun was made of cold, dark metal and black plastic. And it was cruel, so very cruel and deadly. The sort of horrific thing that she never would have imagined. Not at home. Not back when it was safe. Back when it was just mummy and daddy and Mr Pickles and her. She liked to believe life was still like that. That this wasn't any more than just a passing nightmare. But it was. And she was so scared.

"Scared are we? Shaking in our boots? What would your mother think?" the Pickle grinned.

"I-I-I caaan't do this," Lammy cried, falling to the floor, "I'm not a murderer!"

There was a brief pause in which the bear said something, but Lammy couldn't hear what it was, and then Flippy knelt down next to her and, placing his hand on her head, turned it up to look at him. "Not a soldier?" he grimaced, "Who do you think you're kidding, huh? You're as much of a soldier as I am. If not more. I saw your work a couple of days ago. It was good." Lammy coughed and, nearby, Mr Pickles nodded his agreement muttering something, most probably questioning the views of Lammy's parentage. Lammy sniffled and hiccoughed, trying to bury her face in her jacket. Flippy ears pricked up, and he laughed. "Yeah. He would love you."

"Who would?" Flippy rolled his eyes and turned away.

"The other one." Lammy nodded. He meant that Green Eyed Soldier right. "Ha. He's probably into bad girls just like you." Lammy wiped her face on the army coat and sniffed a few more times, and Flippy placed his hand on her shoulder.

"B-b-but I-I'm not baaad." Lammy whimpered, "I-It's Mr Pickles. He's the one who kills everyone."

"You're blaming me? How dare you? What would your mother think?" Flippy gave a groan, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I know kid. It's hard. You think I want that green eyed guy? Nah. I used to be just like you. But we can't just do that, OK. We have to just accept who we are." He gave another groan and Lammy stared up at him quizzically "Sadistic murderers. You can't just blame a pickle forever... Now come on." He leapt from the trees, heading towards the people below. Mr Pickles looked up at Lammy, who blushed, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief he handed her.

"Why can't I kill him then? What do you see in that thug anyway, might I be so bold as to ask? What would your mother think?"

...

"I-I-I caaan't do this," Lammy cried, falling to the floor, "I'm not a murderer!" Flippy rolled his eyes. Not this thing again. Why did kids always have to act like this? Ah, who did he think he was kidding? Couple of years ago, he would have done the same. He sighed, leaning back against a tree and yawned. There was a whoosh and a thud, and when he opened his eyes... They were there. The little mouse with the bandaged ears and the massive back pack and the chameleon in the helmet. Mouse Kaboom and Sneaky. Flippy smiled dreamily and sighed. Those two took him back. For once, he was happy to see them. This was the war after all and they were his friends. He grinned wider, he would have gone mad if it weren't for those two. Like that little girl. The one lying at his feet.

"Wow." Sneaky hissed, staring down at the little girl on the floor, "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing." Flippy whispered, the little man behind him laughed.

"Don't give me that one, mon frere, you've done something. I know it." He stood over the little lamb and grinned, "She's not a South Sider if that's what you wanted to here. Just a kid. I didn't think you were into that kind of thing, mon frere."

"What do I do?" Flippy stepped away and the mouse laughed.

"She just needs talking to, that's all. This is what you need us for, huh. God, you sure don't need us for killing." The chameleon smirked, tongue hanging out and splashing drool on the floor. It was sort of comforting for the bear. To have these creeps around. Just the three creeps together. Flippy knelt, turning her head to see the lamb's tear streaked face.

"Not a soldier?" He tried to keep her face up, looking for some sort of reaction "Who do you think you're kidding, huh? You're as much of a soldier ass I am. If not more. I saw your work a couple of days ago. It was good." It didn't help.

"That's not going to work." Kaboom sang and Sneaky stepped forwards, staring straight at Flippy and making him shiver, "She's a girl. A kid. Try saying something emotional. Get to know her." Flippy groaned softly, Kaboom was right, he didn't know how to interact with people. Kaboom stepped closer to the girl, his eyes sparkling.

"Not now Romeo." Sneaky hissed, "She can't see you, even if she were paying attention."

"Ah come on." Kaboom moaned, "I happen to like short, rich girls."

"Short," Sneaky's drool sloshed against the trees, "Better talk to my friend, George Byron." Flippy laughed.

"Yeah he would love you!"

"Who would?" Flippy turned, someone had spoken. The girl. He'd forgotten. Forgotten the girl. Now that he listened, she kind of sounded like Kaboom, the accent. They must have come from the same country. Maybe that's why he couldn't kill her. She was looking around now, staring straight at, or rather through, the lanky chameleon, "The other one." Flippy corrected, nodding at Kaboom. Flippy stepped forwards, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "He's probably into bad girls." He turned to Kaboom, "Just like you." Kaboom grinned widely and saluted.

"B-b-but I-I'm not baaad. I-It's Mr Pickles. He's the one who kills everyone." Flippy rolled his eyes. The girl was definitely like crazy. Multiple personalities or schizophrenia or something crazy like that. He smiled sadly, consoling her with words that he had meant at some point, before forgetting, changing his opinion, forcing it back into his brain and spitting it out like a nasty pill. Meaningless words. Empty. He shrugged, his speech over. Now the attack would begin. Not killing, he'd taken pills for that, they should keep the Green Eyed Soldier back for about five more minutes. Just knock the enemy unconscious. Fighting. Finally something that he was good at. He sniffed the air, turning to the two other soldiers and surprisingly useless lamb.

"Right behind you." Kaboom grinned. Behind him Sneaky nodded, pointing North and disappearing into the tree. The mouse stepped forwards, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Now come on!" Flippy grinned, leaping out of the trees and landing on a particularly unfortunate orange bear with a whoop. Kaboom grinned, looking down at the small pickle, as Lammy rushed forwards to cover the bear.

"Nice moustache." He laughed, stepping past the lamb and throwing a charge, which was accompanied by a satisfying explosion.

"Indeed." The pickle grinned.


End file.
